A Common Enemy
by fokker333
Summary: As the Battle of Hogwarts is lost, the Ministry falls, and the world is on the dawn of war, three vastly different groups unite against a common enemy. Determined to exact their vengeance against the one who destroyed their worlds, they fight. As they battle against the most powerful Dark Lord alive, they must deal with their own personal demons. Who will survive, and who will not?
1. The Battle of Hogwarts

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Bleach. They belong to J.K. Rowling, Tite Kubo, and all affiliates associated with said individuals._**  
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**Chapter 1: The Battle of Hogwarts**

Smoke spiraled into the sky. From a distance, it looked as though the heap of rubble and stone, the remnants of a long-crumbled castle from some bygone age, was reliving whatever battle or disaster that had reduced the once-majestic marvel of architecture to the pitiful pile of stone and cobble it was now, a sign hanging over what was left of a magnificent archway, warning curious wanderers and enterprising explorers, heedless of the dangers the unstable wreckage could pose, to stay away.

From a closer perspective, a keen-eyed observer would notice that the landscape was marred and cratered, trees reduced to splintered stumps, scorched craters pockmarking the earth. Those who had experienced war would have described the place like a battlefield, with artillery shells exploding and scarring the earth with their destructive power. The comparison was not far from the truth, but the truth was, in fact, much more jarring.

Harry hissed in pain as a cutting curse nicked his face, slicing a long gash along his cheek. He ignored the stinging pain and the blood slowly trickling down his face, the droplets of crimson life tickling as they rolled down his grime-covered, exhausted countenance as he desperately battled for his life. The heavy-set man in dark robes and a bone-like mask covering his features sneered as they fought, his wand flashing in deadly patterns, sending brilliant beams of death towards the emerald-eyed student, who desperately dived behind a heap of rubble, what was once a statue in the courtyard of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Wincing in pain from his injuries and bruises, Harry gasped for breath behind cover as blasting spells from the persistent Death Eater bombarded it, sending shrapnel and shards of stone flying everywhere. Harry took the chance to look around at the battlefield that his beloved school had become.

Everywhere curses flew, the deadly green of the Killing Curse being used unreservedly from both sides as one fought for survival and the other fought for conquest. The staff of Hogwarts and the students old enough to fight had been joined by the Order of the Phoenix as they defended the school against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The younger students had long been evacuated, hurried to safety through a secret passage before the battle had commenced.

The barrage of curses against Harry's cover slackened for a moment, and he took his chance. Diving out from behind cover, he sent a Stunning spell with unerring accuracy at the Death Eater, striking him in squarely in the chest and throwing the large man backward, his wand flying out of his hand and clattering, harmless, to the cobblestone of the courtyard. The fall had knocked the mask from the Death Eater's face, and Harry recognized the man as Antonin Dolohov, a higher-ranked Death Eater that had been present at the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.

In a surge of vindictive anger, Harry strode over to the fallen Death Eater, grinding his heel into Dolohov's face. His efforts were rewarded by a satisfying _crunch_ as the man's nose shattered under his foot, and Harry turned back to the battle.

Casting a quick shield charm to deflect a Cutting curse, he flung back another one of his own, long gashes appearing in the black robes of another Death Eater, sending blood arcing through the air and splattering against the ground. The man yelled in pain and clutched at his bloody chest as his lifeblood seeped into his robes, staining them a dark crimson. Harry could tell that the man was finished, and it was only mercy that made him hit the man with a Stunning spell, leaving the fallen Death Eater unconscious to bleed to death, sparing him from being conscious for his unpleasant fate.

A roar made Harry whip his head around so quickly that he almost gave himself whiplash, something that would not have been beneficial at all in the heat of battle. Focusing his sight, he found himself staring at a massive troll, at least the size of the one he had faced his first year. _Shit_.

The troll swung its club, which was basically a small tree, clearly aiming to smash Harry into a bloody smear on the ground. Harry leapt out of the way, rolling as the club smashed into the ground. His eyes widened as he saw the dent it had made in in the cobble. Clambering to his feet, he eyed the troll warily. This was not going to be an easy fight.

He bit back a curse as the club slammed down again, narrowly missing his shoulder by mere centimeters, sending chips of stone slashing through the skin on his arm, sending rivulets of blood spiraling through the air as Harry ducked and weaved.

"Stupefy!" he yelled, but as expected the Stunning spell simply bounced off the troll's magically resistant skin, succeeding in only irritating the beast. It roared again, its pungent breath causing Harry to gag as he backpedaled, desperately wracking his mind for a solution for this problem. Casting his gaze around, his eyes fell on a jagged shard of stone, what used to be some gargoyle or other statue. Remembering his first encounter with a troll his first year, inspiration struck.

Concentrating on the bicycle-sized stone while dodging blows from the troll with the double-focus he had developed from playing Quidditch, he darted over to it. Turning back to the troll, Harry yelled, "Hey, ugly!"

The troll roared, spraying spittle against the ground, charging forward, club raised as it tried once more to rid itself of the pest standing before him. Harry narrowed his eyes, focusing as he cast a levitation charm on the sharp boulder, standing his ground. _Come on, come on…_

At the last possible second, Harry dived to the side away from the troll, whipping his wand while he fell, directing his improvised anti-troll weapon forward. The speed at which the rock flew, combined with the troll's momentum, sent it sinking deep into the troll's chest. Copious amounts of green blood splattered the ground, covering the cobbles as the troll gurgled in pain. With a shuddering, rattling gasp, it fell still, its blood continuing to seep from its body, mingling with the crimson already splashed on the cobblestones. Harry tried not to think about where the red had come from, turning from the slain beast back to the battle.

Another glance around confirmed Harry's growing suspicions. They were losing. Despite the protections Hogwarts had given to its defenders, the overwhelming numbers of the enemy forces were simply too much to handle. They were backed into a corner, slowly being surrounded by the Death Eaters, pushed into a huddle group as they desperately cast spells, fighting for their very existence. And then, a sound which made his blood run cold, one that he knew would spell the end of everything, echoed across the vast, scarred courtyard.

Over the din of battle, over the sound of curses and explosions and sickening splashes of blood, the dreaded crack of apparition rang out, the sound reaching the ears of every single defender of Hogwarts. In that moment, they knew it was over. They had barely been even with the Death Eaters, but with his arrival, they knew it was lost.

Hope and determination vanished, replaced by utter despair. Some dropped their wands in hopelessness, despite knowing that the act would not save them. Others fought on, still defiant, but lacking the spark that kept them going, the spark of a thought that they would survive this day. It was gone.

Black robes whipping around his body, the giant snake Nagini slithering softly on the ground beside him, Lord Voldemort approached the last group of defenders. The last remnants of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army, huddled together, throwing curses desperately at the overwhelming Death Eaters.

"Voldemort!" snarled a Seventh-Year, throwing a Bludgeoning Hex at the Dark Lord from the side. The monster didn't even spare the student a single look before killing him, sending a blasting spell through his chest, the student falling back glassy-eyed even as blood soaked the front of his robes.

Padma and Parvati Patil stood back-to-back, frantically casting spells, trying to fend off the encroaching mass of Acromantula. In their concentration, they failed to notice the dark form to the side, blurring into motion as it leapt. Blood arced through the air, and the sisters collapsed, holding their savaged throats, only to be overtaken by the mass of giant spiders. Fenrir Greyback bounded to his master's side, blood staining his lips and chin as he spread his mouth into a morbid grin.

"I congratulate you, defenders of Hogwarts," hissed the Dark Lord, casually firing off a blasting hex that collapsed a section of roof onto Anthony Goldstein. "To think that you could fight off my forces for so long… I applaud your determination to resist the inevitable. But alas, your efforts are in vain." With a vicious hiss, Nagini struck to the side, burying her fangs in the neck of Lavender Brown, who moaned and writhed with pain as the deadly venom spread, before falling still.

Holding up a hand, Voldemort ordered his Death Eaters to cease firing curses at the huddled group of survivors. "But I am a merciful man. Surrender now and I will make your deaths swift and painless. After all, the alternative is to suffer a fate worse than death."

Harry felt bile rise in his throat as he watched Voldemort so casually kill the friends and students he had fought alongside with. Raising his wand to point at Voldemort, he mustered his courage. "Dumbledore always said that death was just the next great adventure."

A hissing laugh escaped Voldemort's mouth. "Dumbledore, yes. Your dear Headmaster. What a pity he's already gone. And, though I hate to admit it, he had been right. Death had merely been the next great adventure. But now… your deaths will simply be the end of you. Dumbledore knew of the afterlife, yes. In my own findings, I discovered that it indeed existed. But not anymore. With this world devastated, it shall collapse upon itself. And so, death for you, Harry Potter, will merely be death."

Bill Weasley whispered out of the side of his mouth. "You all have to get away. The world needs you to stay alive, Harry. You're the only one who can beat him."

"What about the wards?" asked Hermione, looking at the sky, where a shimmering layer of magic prevented the last defenders to apparate to safety. "Unless someone stays behind to take them down, there's no wa-" Her words cut off as she realized what Bill was suggesting.

"No!" Harry said fiercely. "I won't let you do this, Bill. I won't let any more people die for my sake!"

Bill shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm the only one here with the knowledge to take down the wards. I know you don't want people dying for you, Harry, but please. For these people's sake," he said, gesturing to the group of defenders. "For the world's sake. Let me be the last one to die for you."

Without waiting for an answer, he turned to face the wards. "When I start breaking the wards, I need you to distract the Death Eaters. It'll only take a few seconds. When they fall, you all need to apparate somewhere safe." Bill Weasley took a deep breath and raised his wand. "Tell Fleur… tell my family that I love them," he said shakily, his voice breaking at the end. He began casting.

"Fire!" Harry bellowed, tears running down his cheeks. All around, fighters casted spells as hard as they could, buying Bill some time as he endeavored to save them all. "Reducto!" he shouted, throwing a blasting spell at Voldemort's feet, showering the Dark Lord with debris, which impacted an invisible shield surrounding Voldemort and his familiar.

A few seconds later, the wards fell. "You have to go now, Harry!" shouted Bill. "It's your last chance!"

Harry clenched his eyes shut, unable to watch as he and the rest of the fighters apparated away. As he felt himself being sucked away, he blinked, his eyes opening to see William Arthur Weasley for the last time, teeth bared in defiance as he cast spell after spell at the Death Eaters. As Harry fell into the vortex, he saw a sickly glow of green.

Harry retched as he collapsed onto the ground, tears dripping from his face, mingling with the vomit and blood on the wet grass. "Fuck!" he swore, smashing a fist into the earth. "Fuck!" All around him, the surviving defenders collapsed in exhaustion, their gasps barely reaching Harry's ears.

He stayed like that, hunched over, tears and blood dripping down his face. After an indeterminate period of time, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Harry?" a voice he vaguely recognized as Ron's asked. "Are you alright?"

A strangled gasp sounded, and Harry belatedly realized that it was his own. "It's over," he choked out, swiping a hand roughly across his eyes, spitting bile from his mouth. "It's over. We lost. That's it." He stood shakily, his trembling knees barely supporting his weight. Turning, he looked around at the surviving fighters, counting them silently in his head. Ron, Hermione, Luna Lovegood, Charlie Weasley, Ginny, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Dedalus Diggle, Dumbledore's brother Aberforth, Hestia Jones, Terry Boot, Dennis Creevey, Seamus Finnegan, George Weasley, Alicia Spinnet, Lee Jordan, Draco Malfoy, and Oliver Wood.

Harry's heart sank as he took them all in, their faces weary and defeated. Twenty, counting himself. All that remained of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix. He knew without a doubt that Voldemort would target the Ministry next, eliminating anyone who could possibly resist his rule. From there, he would spread his control from Britain to the rest of the world, and they were powerless to stop him.

"What are we going to do?" Ginny asked gently. Subconsciously, Harry was pleased that she looked to him for instructions first, despite the presence of older, more experienced people. But consciously, Harry could only think of the people who had died fighting for their lives, protecting him, the Boy-Who-Lived. A wave of guilt washed over him, and his knees gave way. He crumpled to the ground in exhaustion. "We go into hiding," he said quietly, his face obscured by his disheveled hair. "We hide, and we survive."

"And then…?" Hermione prompted, subdued, tears slowly trickling down her face.

Harry took a shuddering breath, exhaling slowly. "I don't know," he admitted. "What _can_ we do? We can't fight. We aren't strong enough."

"But we can't just _give up_!" Charlie yelled suddenly, standing, fist clenched. "Too many people died already, we can't just let their sacrifices to go waste! Percy, Mum, Dad, Fred, Bill…" His voice trailed off, ending with a choked gasp of anguish as he thought of the family he had lost. "We just can't," he said in a whisper. "I can't. I _won't_. I'll go fight that bastard myself, if you won't."

Harry felt a twang of pity for the now-eldest Weasley, but it was quickly overridden by anger. "I'm not _giving up_," he snapped, pushing off the ground. "We are _not_ giving up. But now… what can we do? We can't fight. There's twenty of us left, how can we possibly think to stand against Voldemort?" They were all too tired to even wince at the name. Looking around, he saw everyone looking at him. He saw the expectations and hopes they, along with those of all who had died, shining in their eyes, and he suddenly felt the full weight of the burden that he carried.

"We go into hiding, and we train," he said quietly. But his voice was not lowered in grief, but in determination. "We travel around, gathering people who are willing to fight. We get stronger. And one day, we will stand again. This I swear, upon the grave of my parents, on the deaths that I have on my hands, on my very magic. I swear that one day, we are going to fight. And this time, we're going to _win_."

A hoarse chuckle came from the few surviving fighters, and Draco Malfoy came forward, his blond hair grimy and tousled, dirt and blood smudged across his face. "Well said, Potter, well said," the ex-Slytherin said with a genuine smile. "In which case, I pledge myself to you. I would die before betraying this promise you've made. Your promise is my promise."

Confusion etched itself onto Harry's face. "Malfoy, what-"

"Draco," the blond corrected, sending shock through his body again. "Call me Draco. The Malfoy family is no more. V-Voldemort killed my parents. The Malfoy line ends with me, and I choose to forsake that name. We'll fight together, Potter," he promised, holding out a hand.

Harry felt the tiniest smile break out on his face as he reached forward and clasped Draco's hand in his. "Harry," he corrected. "Call me Harry."

"Touching though this scene may be, Potter, Draco," the familiar drawl of a certain greasy-haired Potions Master cut in, "May I remind you that we still must devise a plan of action? Keep in mind that we must keep a low profile, not attracting the Dark Lord's attention, while maintaining our own wellbeing."

"Professor…" Hermione spoke up, biting her lip nervously. "If I may suggest something, when we stop travelling to rest for the night, we can ward the area that we're resting in. We, I mean, Ron, Harry and I, did that when we were hunting for horcruxes. It worked pretty well, and they didn't find us until Harry accidentally triggered the taboo. With more of us to add to the wards, we can make them stronger than last year…" She trailed off as she noticed Snape looking at her with an expression none had seen on the Potion Master's face before.

"That," Snape mused, with not a trace of the usual malice on his face, "was a very well-thought-out plan. Well done, Miss Granger."

Almost everyone present stared, aghast, at Severus Snape, who had just defied all expectations, shattered all conceptions, and sent the sky crashing down on everyone's heads. After a moment of staring, jaws agape, they finally managed to recover. Heads shaking, the group made their way across the field they had apparated into, not really having a destination, but with one common goal in mind: defeat Voldemort.

* * *

Greetings, dear readers! It is I, fokker333, with yet another brand-new Harry Potter/Bleach crossover! This idea popped into my head a few months ago, and those of you who follow my other story **The Reaper **got to read an extended summary. I started this story at the beginning of this month for NaNoWriMo, and although I haven't finished the story yet (far from it, in fact), I have completed several chapters and decided to post the first one. Please keep in mind that I may not post the next chapter of **A Common Enemy **for a few weeks yet, since it is still a work in progress, although I'm fairly certain that I can guarantee chapter 2 to be updated before the New Year. Be warned, however: **A Common Enemy** contains _lots_ of character death. I didn't want to kill of Bill, he's one of my favorite Harry Potter characters, but his death was necessary (sadly enough). So for those readers whose favorite characters are going to meet their untimely demise, I apologize in advance. That being said, I do hope that the fact that your favorite characters will die does not prevent you from reading what I believe will be my greatest work yet. So, thank you all for reading! Please, if you liked it and want to see more, add **A Common Enemy** to your story alerts, or your story favorites. Leave a review if you would be so kind, those go a long way in giving me inspiration to continue writing, and I shall see you all again for the next chapter of this story. Until next time!

~fokker333


	2. The Invasion of Soul Society (I)

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Bleach. They belong to J.K. Rowling, Tite Kubo, and affiliates, respectively._

**Chapter 2: The Invasion of Rukongai (I)**

"Over two thousand in West District 74!"

"Approximately four thousand in East District 49!"

"One thousand twenty-eighth in North District 58!"

"E-Eight thousand in South District 80!"

The assembled members of the Research and Development Institute of the Gotei 13 stared at the readings their instruments were giving in horror and awe as Hollows began pouring into the Soul Society from Hueco Mundo, the Hollow realm.

"Well, don't just stand there!" Kurotsuchi Mayuri, the Captain of the Twelfth Division and President of the RDI snarled, slamming a palm on a table, causing almost everyone present in the huge, screen- and instrument-filled room jump. "Akon, start coordinating fighters from other divisions to fight off the hollows! Nemu! Come with me. I'm calling an emergency Captain's meeting. The others must know of this."

As the Third Seat quickly assumed his seat in front of the massive communications console and began quickly speaking into a microphone, informing the entire Gotei 13 of the situation, Kurotsuchi swept out of the Research and Development Institute, his Vice-captain and daughter right behind him. "I want to know why there are suddenly so many Hollows, and how the hell they breached Soul Society so quickly!" he yelled backward over his shoulder, causing many division members to flinch.

Captain of the First Division and Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, Yamamoto Shigekuni Genryuusai, opened both eyes wide to stare directly at the Captain of the Twelfth Division, who had just finished giving a highly agitated report. The Captain-Commander had never seen the mad scientist so flustered or disturbed. The face-painted maniac had yet to make a comment about experiments, a fact that the other Captains had noticed. Grim looks were pasted on all their faces, even the easygoing Captain of the Eighth Division, Kyouraku Shunsui, and the recently reinstated Visored Captain of the Fifth Division, Hirako Shinji.

"What could have caused such a huge surge in Hollows?" asked the Captain of the Tenth Division, Hitsugaya Toushiro. "I thought that Hueco Mundo wasn't going to give us any trouble after we beat Aizen."

"My division is working on figuring out the true cause of this influx, but there can only be two reasons for a sudden invasion like this," Mayuri replied, beginning to pace back and forth in agitation. "The first," he said, holding up a long, pale finger, "is that they organized and are part of an army somebody in Hueco Mundo has organized."

"Not likely," the Visored Captain of the Ninth Division, Muguruma Kensei, said. "We haven't heard from any of the friendly Arrancar about a possible threat from Hueco Mundo."

"Correct," confirmed Mayuri. "Which means that there is only one possible explanation. There are so many Hollows in Hueco Mundo that the Hollow realm can no longer support such great numbers, and they are spilling into the Soul Society."

Kuchiki Byakuya, Captain of the Fifth Division, frowned. "If Hueco Mundo is becoming overcrowded, it can only mean that some great disaster has fallen upon the world of the living, causing the deaths of so many humans that our shinigami stationed their cannot perform soul burial quickly enough."

A sudden silence fell over the meeting room of the First Division barracks as the Captains, the strongest fighters of the afterlife, realized exactly what they were up against.

"I hereby order all Captains," the voice of the Captain-Commander said, breaking the silence and drawing all attention to him, "to place their divisions at the highest alert possible. Captain Hitsugaya, Captain Zaraki, Captain Otorobashi, Captain Muguruma, you are in charge of the defense of the Rukongai. Organize your divisions however you see fit, but begin defending the Rukongai as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir!" the child prodigy, the two Visoreds, and the berserker all responded. Turning to their Vice-Captains, who had attended this highest-priority emergency meeting as well, they began issuing orders quietly.

"I want all the other divisions to be on alert as well," continued the Captain-Commander. "Captain Unohana, make sure that the infirmary is prepared to accommodate injured. All other divisions, be ready to provide reinforcements for the defense of the Rukongai. I hereby declare the Seireitei to be under martial law. Soul Society has stood for thousands of years, we shall not fall now!"

As the other Captains also began issuing orders, the huge double-doors banged open, causing heads to turn. There in the doorway stood a white-coated member of the RDI, panting and sweating, a sheaf of papers clutched in a pale, trembling hand. "Captains!" the man cried, bowing hurriedly, "we've discovered the source of the Hollow influx!"

"What is it?" Mayuri demanded, completely forgoing decorum. Not that it mattered, not with the Soul Society itself at risk.

"There is a man, named Tom Marvolo Riddle, in western Europe, originating in Britain, who has been going on a massive killing spree, helped by subordinates and supporters," the RDI member said, voice shaking as he read the report. "He began in Britain, and has worked his way through France, Germany, and the rest of western Europe, and it doesn't look like he's going to stop. He is a mere human, and he's trying to take over the world by committing mass genocide!"

Muffled curses were bit back as the Captains absorbed this information. If the one responsible for the creation of so many Hollows was human and alive, technically the Gotei 13 had no authority or jurisdiction over him.

"Captain Soi Fon!" the Captain-Commander barked. The Head of the Onmitsukidou, the Secret Mobile Corps, snapped to attention. "I want you to send a party of your best agents to Europe. Kill the one responsible for all this, and send his soul to Hell!"

Despite the fact that Captain-Commander Yamamoto had just reneged on one of the most sacred rules of the shinigami, to not interfere with the affairs of living humans, Soi Fon was unable to hold back a feral smile. "I shall go myself, Captain-Commander Yamamoto. It shall be done."

"Very well," Yamamoto acknowledged. "This emergency captain's meeting is now closed. The defense of Rukongai is now our number one priority! Dismissed!"

"Matsumoto! Organize the division into twenty-man teams, each led by a seated officer. We'll take the West Rukongai," Hitsugaya snapped as he walked out of the meeting.

"Let's go, Kira-kun," Otoribashi Rojuro said, the flamboyant VIsored uncharacteristically grim. "We'll defend the South."

"Ikkaku, Yumichika, mobilize the division and follow me," Kenpachi Zaraki said with a vicious grin. "We're going to East Rukongai."

"Come, Hisagi," Muguruma Kensei said, taking long strides out of the meeting. "We shall defend the North."

As the Captains and Vice-Captains left the First Division barracks, heading to their respective commands, the air itself was fraught with urgency. The very existence of Soul Society, the balance of the universe was at risk. And each and every member of the Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Divisions would give up their lives to protect that.

"Tanaka-kun!" Matsumoto Rangiku, Vice-Captain of the Tenth Division, cried in dismay as her subordinate, part of the twenty-man team she was leading in the defense of West Rukongai, was mobbed by three hollows and disappeared under flailing pale limbs and claws. Growling in frustration, she clenched her fists tighter around the hilt of her zanpakutou. "Growl, Haineko!"

The blade of her zanpakutou dissolved into ash down to her cat-shaped guard, and she whipped the hilt in a slashing motion as the rest of her team fended off the rest of the Hollows. The ash that was her zanpakutou, Haineko's shikai release followed her hand, shredding the Hollows that were viciously assaulting her subordinate.

Screaming in pain and fury, they dissolved into reishi, their bodies breaking down and being absorbed by Soul Society's air. As they finally disappeared completely, Tanaka's mangled and bloody body came into view, his fists clutching his zanpakutou even as it began breaking down, the blade falling into dust and the hilt's wrapping unraveling and falling to the ground.

Choking back a sob as she thought about the man's family, living in the 3rd District of West Rukongai, his wife and daughter now without a husband and father. "Tanaka Jiro," she said, blinking away tears to another member of her team, who took note of the name. "Unseated shinigami of the Tenth Division. Honorable death in combat, protecting Rukongai."

Nodding sadly, the shinigami finished the note, tucking the notepad into the inner pocket of his shihakushou before dashing off, drawing his zanpakutou as he joined the fight, assisting his teammate against a large Hollow with razor-sharp oversized claws and teeth.

"Fall back!" Izuru Kira, Vice-Captain of the Third Division, yelled as they fought. They had been battling for hours now, without pause, to no avail, as the Hollows had pushed him and the members of the Third Division back from the very edge of District 80 of South Rukongai to the inner borders of District 4.

The entire division, numbering some two hundred soldiers, had been reduced by a quarter of its strength, and while each fallen member of the division had taken at least twenty Hollows with them, it had barely dented their numbers, and now there were several thousand Hollows pressing nearly at the very gates of the Seireitei, having completely razed the seventy-six districts and slaughtered all their occupants, despite the division's best efforts.

The destruction of the millions of souls in the South Rukongai grated harshly on Kira's conscience, and he bowed his head in shame. However, his moment of self-loathing didn't last long, and he whipped up his blade to block the slashing class of a thin, humanoid hollow.

"Shinigami!" it hissed, revealing a mottled black tongue. "Die!"

"I don't think so," Kira, replied calmly, pushing a bit of reiatsu into his zanpakutou to strengthen the steel, deflecting the claw in a shower of sparks. "Raise your head, Wabisuke!"

The plain katana glowed and morphed, changing into a square-hooked blade, with its edge on the inside. Holding it in a diagonal guard stance, Kira saw a pair of unseated division members struggle against a massive, fifteen-foot monster of a Hollow. Narrowing his eyes at the thin one before him, Kira said, "I don't have time to deal with you." Darting behind the Hollow in a flash-step, he slashed down its back, causing it to dissolve into reishi. "May your soul be at peace." Looking around at the devastation around him, he added in a mutter, "Though there isn't much peace to be in around here."

Another hour of fighting later, and he and the division, which numbered a mere half its original strength, were literally pressed by their backs against the walls of the Seireitei. The South Rukongai was no more, and behind the encroaching army of Hollows Kira could see the burning shambles of the eighty districts, reduced to so much rubble by the massive force of Hollows.

Swearing uncharacteristically as he blocked another strike, he hissed to a nearby division member, "Cover me, I need to request for reinforcements!" Nodding wordlessly, the Eighth Seat stepped in and slashed horizontally, dissolving the Hollow into reishi, as Kira flashed into the air, solidifying the reishi in the air to create a platform to stand on.

Sealing and sheathing Wabisuke, he plunged his hands into his shihakushou, staining his fingertips black with a special powder he carried in an inner pocket. Pushing back the sleeves of the uniform, he painted up and down his forearms, thrusting them forward into the air while chanting, "Black and white net. Twenty-two bridges, sixty-six crowns and bells. Footprints, distant thunder, sharp peak, engulfing land, hidden in the night, sea of clouds, blue line. Form a circle and fly through the heavens. Bakudou number seventy-seven, Tenteikuura!"

A glowing square appeared in the air, tendrils of reiatsu branching out from it. Kira closed his eyes, transmitting his message through the communication kidou to the main meeting room of the First Division, where he knew the majority of the Captains, barring Kurotsuchi and Soi Fon, were meeting.

_"This is Izuru Kira, Vice-Captain of the Third Division, requesting back-up for the defense of South Rukongai-no, the South Gate of the Seireitei. The Hollows were too strong, and we were unable to protect the Rukongai. The division is down to below 50% strength, and the Hollows still number over five thousand. Again, this is Izuru Kira of the Third Division, requesting back-up at the South Gate of the Seireitei. Bankai may be required."_

"Dammit!" Hitsugaya Toushiro shouted, banging a clenched fist on the large wooden table that the Captains were seated around. "How have they pushed this far already?"

Cracking open an eye, the Captain-Commander rumbled, "Calm yourself, Captain Hitsugaya. The situation is grave indeed, and the loss of the entire South Rukongai is a heavy blow. But please remember that you are a Captain of the Gotei 13. If you are called to battle, the lower-ranked shinigami will look to you for support and guidance. A flustered commander does not bode well for an army's confidence. Maintain your composure."

Bowing his head and flushing slightly, Toushiro said nothing as the Captain-Commander continued, "Assistance shall be granted. Captain Otoribashi Rojuro, please go assist your division in the defense of the Seireitei. Captain Kuchiki, please also mobilize the Sixth Division and place them on standby just behind the South Gate. If your division is required in the defense of Seireitei, do your best to give it."

Opening both eyes fully, the Captain-Commander gazed around at the strongest shinigami of the Gotei 13. "It appears that the defense of Rukongai is about to end, and the defense of Seireitei itself will begin shortly." Suddenly, the old Captain looked incredibly weary, as though the weight of responsibility had finally made itself visible on his body after over two thousand years. "Captains, I fear that this may the very last battle we fight. The fate of Soul Society, the world of the living, and Hueco Mundo are at stake. The fate of the universe lies in the balance of the fight we will soon enter. This is a fight we cannot lose."

Appearing in a flash-step high above the raging battle at the South Gate of the Seireitei, Captain Otoribashi Rojuro of the Third Division of the Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Divisions frowned as he reached out with his senses. He could only feel forty-three shinigami reiatsu signatures still alive in the battle below, and several of them were extremely low, barely flickering as the shinigami they belonged to presumably struggled to cling on to life, severely injured.

Reaching a hand to his face, he clenched it into a claw and pulled down, manifesting a beak-like bone mask. His reiatsu skyrocketed, and the blonde Captain of the Third Division drew his zanpakutou. "Play, Kinshara!"

In a flash of light and burst of reiatsu, the zanpakutou morphed into a long golden whip with a spiked, flower-like tip. Slashing it through the air, Rojuro, known to his friends as Rose, cried, "Kinshara Sonata Number Eleven: Sixteen Day-Old Moon Rose!"

As the head of the whip blurred downward into the middle of the thousands of Hollows, a massive sound wave emanated from the head, a deafening vortex of reverberating sound smashing through hundreds of hollows at once. The entire battlefield was covered in the telltale trace of dissolving reishi as almost half of the entire Hollow army was destroyed in a single blow.

Flashing down to ground-level, Rose joined what was left of his division in the fight. His whip blurred as he sent it rocketing through dozens of Hollows at once, smashing through their masks and purifying them. As the onslaught subsided, he turned to the devastated Third Division. A cluster of shinigami crowded around one caught his attention, and he flashed over.

Biting back a curse, Rose looked down at the bloody form of his Vice-Captain. Kira's right arm had been torn to shreds, barely attached to his shoulder by a few threads of muscle and tissue. His stomach had been torn open, and three division members were desperately healing the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding the best they could.

Kira coughed, blood spattering onto Rose's Captain's cloak, his right hand twitching uselessly as he instinctively reached for his blade, but failed to do so. Turning his head, he looked at the mangled remains of his arm and sighed. Having been a former member of the Medical Corps, he knew the extent of his injuries. Letting his head fall back against the ground, he looked up at the form of his Captain, who gazed down at the fallen Vice-Captain with sorrow and regret in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Kira said, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth as he struggled to pull air into his lungs to speak. "I wasn't able… to defend… the Districts very well."

"Don't speak," Rose hushed him, although he knew is was a futile effort. Kira had lost far too much blood to survive now, and the division members that were trying to heal him were only prolonging the inevitable.

"No," Kira coughed. "Please. Let me talk." Looking up at his Captain with pleading eyes, he didn't wait for Rose to respond. "I know that… I don't have much time left, Captain. Answer me this question. Did… did I serve faithfully?"

Rose sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yes. Kira, you were the most loyal Vice-Captain I could have asked for."

Kira smiled, a breath of relief escaping his lips. "Thank goodness… Please, Captain. Tell my friends… tell Hinamori, and Renji, and Hisagi… tell them that I'm sorry. I couldn't live long enough to fight alongside them like I used to." His gasps were shorter now as he struggled for breath. "Thank you, Captain, for everything that you've done for me. It's been an honor serving under you, even though it wasn't for very long."

Rose looked into Kira's blue eyes solemnly. "It was an honor to be your commanding officer." Taking a deep breath, he said the last words he knew his Vice-Captain would hear. "I, Otoribashi Rojuro, Captain of the Third Division of the Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Divisions, do hereby release you, Izuru Kira, of your duties to the Third Division. May your soul rest in peace."

Kira exhaled slowly. "Thank you, Captain. I… I have fulfilled… my duty…" With those words, the life left the Vice-Captain of the Third Division's body, and one of the most loyal men of the Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Divisions died.

Rose bowed his head, silently mourning the loss of his subordinate. As the last of the Hollows were finally cleaned up by the exhausted division members, they too fell to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the ground in homage of their fallen Vice-Captain, whose body was already dissolving into reishi, Wabisuke reverting to its sealed state and shattering, disappearing as the last of his master's body vanished.

After a few minutes of complete silence, Rose turned to the next-highest ranking member of the Division, which he found to be the Sixth Seat. "Masuda-san, please give me a list of those lost in action. I shall personally see to it that they are honored for their service. Their families…" The Captain's voice trailed off as he gazed across what was left of the South Districts of the Rukongai, all eighty districts reduced to so much rubble and stone.

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Hello again! So I've been making good progress on **A Common Enemy**, so I decided to upload the first part of the Invasion of Soul Society! Also... um... sorry for killing Kira (again). It's just that his death would impact so many people and push their character developments in the perfect direction that he serves as a perfect source of angst! So yeah, that's my (somewhat pathetic) defense for my actions. Anyways, thanks to everyone who's reviewed, followed, or favorited this story. I respectfully request (read: beg) that you leave a review for this chapter if you enjoyed it (despite Kira's death) and add it to your alerts or favorites. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you all next chapter!

~fokker333

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**Edit 9/4/12: Several of you have complained that Ichigo isn't here for all this. Frankly, I'm a bit offended that you all think that I'm negligent or incapable of thinking ahead. Ichigo is one of the main characters for this story for a reason. So, in order to address these question without giving too much away, I'll just say this: he has his own problems right now, but you'll see him soon. **


	3. The Invasion of Soul Society (II)

**Chapter 3: The Invasion of Soul Society (II)**

Rose's fist slammed down onto the table as his face, usually so easy-going and relaxed, became fixed into a hard mask. "Captain-Commander, in the span of a mere eight hours of fighting, my division has been reduced from its full complement of two-hundred and forty-seven shinigami to a mere forty-three. The next-highest ranking member after myself is the Fifth Seat. I demand to know why you requested for the Captains to stay behind instead of going to join the fight defending the Rukongai from the start. The fact that you insisted that I not leave the First Division barracks has caused the deaths of many fine shinigami, along with the loss of the entire South Rukongai." Rose's voice was accusing as he fixed the oldest shinigami with a hard stare.

Yamamoto sighed heavily, not even bothering to disguise the stress in his voice. "I kept you here, Captain Otoribashi, because this fight is far from over. The invasion of the Soul Society has only begun. Recently-dead souls in the world of the living are Hollowfying at a rate we simply cannot keep up with. When you were gone, I recalled every active member of the Gotei 13 from around the globe. Of the three hundred or so shinigami in the world of the living, a mere fifty-seven returned, and those were assigned to the least-populated areas of the world. There is a global genocide occurring in the world of the living, one that surpasses the scale of even what the humans call the 'Holocaust' a few decades ago."

"Could we not simply assassinate the man responsible for this travesty?" Captain Kuchiki Byakuya asked. "Surely the crimes this Tom Riddle has committed are grave enough for us to bypass the laws preventing our involvement in the world of the living. We could simply sent a mission to send him directly to Hell."

Yamamoto shook his head. "Unfortunately, the time has already passed where a mission like that would be viable. There are simply too many Hollows in the world of the living. Even a Captain-level fighter would be vulnerable to being overwhelmed, and we need every member here in the Seireitei to assist in its defense."

Ukitake Juushiro heaved a sigh. "So there's no other way. We can't go help in the world of the living, and defending Rukongai is basically useless now. All we can do is try to hold off the Hollows when they finally reach the Seireitei?"

"That is correct," Yamamoto nodded wearily.

"What about the other Districts?" Hitsugaya asked, worry creasing his brow. "The South Rukongai had the largest amount of Hollows attacking it. How is the defense of the West, North, and East Rukongai faring?" He clenched his fist as he thought of his Vice-Captain and the men under his command, fighting for their lives and the lives of the Rukongai citizens.

"We can only pray that they can hold off the approaching Hollow army long enough for the Zero Division to emerge and assist in the defense of Soul Society."

"So that's it," Kyouraku said. It wasn't a question, just a blunt statement. "There's nothing we can do now except fight the hardest we can. Man, I never thought this would be how it ended."

"That is defeatist talk," Byakuya frowned at the laid-back Captain of the Eighth Division. "If we must fall in battle, we shall die with honor, knowing that we fulfilled our duty."

Silence fell across the table as the Captains contemplated their impending fate. Very few of them had ever considered the possibility of their falling in battle, at least not to mere Hollows. They were the strongest shinigami, the strongest fighters in Soul Society! How could they be defeated by Hollows, to the point that they might need the assistance of the Zero Division, the Spirit King's personal guard?

The silence was broken by Captain Komamura Sajin of the Seventh Division. "What will happen if the Soul Society falls?"

All the Captains turned to look at Mayuri, who merely shrugged. "Who knows?" he asked rhetorically. "It's never happened before. _Theoretically_," he emphasized as mouths opened to challenge him, "it would spell the end of the entire world, as the balance between Soul Society, Hueco Mundo and the living world would be disrupted. I can't think of any other possibility. If Hueco Mundo and Soul Society are destroyed to the point that the dimensions collapse upon themselves, the living world would also shatter into oblivion. However, this is all just theory. We don't actually know what would happen if this scenario would come into fruition, since we have no empirical evidence regarding the matter. I have petitioned the Central 46 previously for permission to conduct such an experiment, but," the mad scientist shrugged, "for obvious reasons I was turned down."

"So there's a distinct possibility that even if Soul Society were to be destroyed, the living world would remain in existence?" Hitsugaya asked.

"Theoretically, anything could happen," Mayuri replied.

The Captain-Commander stroked his beard pensively, considering the present situation. He mulled over the possibilities as his Captains looked at him expectantly. "If, even with the help of the Zero Division, we are unable to defend the Seireitei, our number one priority will be to protect the world of the living. If there is even the slightest possibility that it remains standing even as the Soul Society falls, I shall not hesitate to sacrifice myself in order to preserve the lives of as many shinigami as possible to protect the living world."

"But-" Ukitake protested, but Yamamoto cut him off with a raised hand.

"There will be no objections. When the Hollows breach the perimeter of the Seireitei, our central point of defense will be the Senkai Gate. Without it, there will be no way to send shinigami to the world of the living. To protect is the duty of shinigami, and even if the Soul Society collapses, even if the Gotei 13 is no more, we shall fulfill that duty to the very end, just as Vice-Captain Izuru Kira did."

Ukitake bowed his head, falling into silence. Byakuya was about to speak up when a feebly fluttering Hell Butterfly floated through an open window, one wing tattered and torn. Any words Byakuya was going to say faded on his lips as the Hell Butterfly delivered its message to the occupants of the room.

"_This is Captain Soi Fon of the Second Division, reporting in."_ The unmistakable sounds of flash-step and battle could be heard in the background. _"I regret to inform you that the mission has been compromised. Vice-Captain Omaeda is dead."_ She grunted, as though blocking a blow from an assailant, then continued, _"The situation in the world of the living is worse than we feared. Most of my force of Onmitsukidou has already fallen. It is likely that none of us shall escape alive. Please make certain that they are properly honored for their sacrifice."_

A piercing scream – not Soi Fon's – echoed from the message, causing shivers to run up and down the spines of the Captains listening. _"There is not much time left to report. There is a huge amount of Hollows gathered in Great Britain. I fear that they are preparing for another attack on the Soul Society. I counted upward of ten thousand before our force was discovered. Please make sure that Seireitei is prepared for a massive attack." _

There was another pause as the clashing of battle intensified, and Soi Fon's voice spoke again. _"The Onmitsukidou squad I brought with me has fallen. I am certain that this is the last you shall hear of me. Please tell Urahara Kisuke that I am sorry for my actions towards him in the past and inform Shihoin Yoruichi of my fate."_

The Captains were stunned at how calm the Head of the Onmitsukidou could be even in the face of death. They knew how serious the situation was if Soi Fon was making her last requests. _"I shall fulfill my duty to the end and attempt to lighten the load of the defenders. I shall take down as many of these Hollows as I can before I fall. Good luck to the defenders of Soul Society. This is Captain Soi Fon of the Gotei 13, making my final report, August 23__rd__, 2012, 2300 hours standard time. Farewell. Bankai! Jahukou Raikouben!"_ The message cut off, and the Hell Butterfly fell unmoving to the floor.

The silence that filled the chamber was deafening as the Captains stared, stunned, at the Hell Butterfly. A Captain had fallen in battle. One of the strongest members of the Gotei 13 was dead. It seemed that even overwhelming power was nigh useless in the face of overwhelming numbers. But still…

Kyouraku sighed heavily. "What're we going to tell the rank-and-file? Surely they don't know that they're about to fight a losing battle for the Soul Society. And what about Captain Soi Fon? What about the Onmitsukidou, what do we tell them?"

A new voice spoke up, causing the Captains to stiffen in alarm. "With all due respect, Captains, you underestimate the capabilities of the Onmitsukidou." A figure clad in black, face concealed by a mask leaving only the eyes exposed, melted from the shadows. The woman held up her hands, showing that she was unarmed. Dropping to a knee, she bowed to the Captains. "I am Kawamura Tomoe, Third Seat of the Second Division, and now de-facto head of the Onmitsukidou."

"You've been spying on the Captain's meeting," Yamamoto said, though his tone was not accusing.

"I have," Kawamura replied evenly. "When you sent Captain Soi Fon to the world of the living on a scouting mission, I realized the gravity of the situation. The rest of the Gotei 13 believes that this is merely an unexplained influx of Hollows. They are unaware that the approaching battle may well be the last of their lives. It is of my personal opinion, if I may offer it, that the situation should be fully explained to them."

"And why do you believe that?" Muguruma Kensei asked. Although his face was impassive, he too was worried for the fates of his division, which was currently defending the North Rukongai. Although it had not been as hard hit as the South, with only a force of two thousand Hollows, it was still a large number, and Kensei was sure that his division could not have prevented the destruction of at least one of the Districts.

"For the peace of their souls," Kawamura replied quietly. "They must know as the enter battle that they are fighting for the fate of the world. There is no cause more worthy for them to put in all their strength and effort into than this. If they fight, and fall, without using their full power, and realize the situation only then, they shall die with regret in their hearts. Should we not make certain that they do not fall with dishonor? All souls deserve more than that." She bowed deeper, this time dropping to both knees and pressing her forehead to the floor. "Forgive me for being presumptuous, Captains. But this is a matter that I believed was absolutely necessary to address."

The Captains were slightly taken aback. Even a high-ranking member of the Onmitsukidou, an organization famous for its harsh training and conditioning, could have such feelings. It was at this moment that every Captain was reminded that, like them, the rest of the Gotei 13 was human.

"I think it's a good idea," Hitsugaya said. "Like Kawamura-san here said, they deserve at least that much."

"Very well," Yamamoto said solemnly. "Call an assembly of all active-duty shinigami. We shall inform them of the battle soon."

Kawamura bowed again. "Thank you, Captain-Commander," she said gratefully.

"What about the rest of the Onmitsukidou?" Kyouraku asked curiously. "You've just lost your Captain and Vice-Captain, along with most of your seated members. What will you do?"

She startled them by tugging down her mask, a slight smile on her relatively youthful face. "You forget, Captains, the Onmitsukidou is capable of functioning even without our leaders. The loss of Captain Soi Fon and Vice-Captain Marechiyo are a blow, but you will find that in battle our fighting capacity has not been affected in any way."

"Good to hear," Shinji drawled. "At the rate things are going, we're going to need every fighter we have."

Yamamoto nodded in agreement. "Captain Hirako is correct. Speaking of which, please call a meeting with all shinigami in the Seireitei. However, don't use Tenteikuura to communicate with those still defending Rukongai. They need to focus all their energy into beating back the Hollows."

Matsumoto wiped sweat from her brow as she panted, surveying the battlefield in the 14th District of the West Rukongai. By now, too many members of the division had fallen for the original twenty-man teams to be viable. It was a pitched battle now, with the shinigami slowly retreating towards the Seireitei, evacuating as many civilians as they could.

By now, none of the thirteen original twenty-man teams were unscathed. Two of them, the ones led by the Sixth and Eighth Seats, had been completely wiped out, and the leaders of three others had been killed, leaving them to merge together into larger groups in order to fend off the Hollows.

Matsumoto whipped her shikai in the direction of a cluster of Hollows who were threatening to overwhelm their defensive line, shredding them to pieces. Casting a quick look around at the remaining members of the Tenth Division, her heart sank as she saw so many of her subordinates injured, clutching their wounds as they fought on despite the blood dripping from their bodies.

"Head count!" she snapped as she reformed her blade in time to block a Hollow's attack. Gritting her teeth and digging her heels into the earth, she raised a hand and faced it towards the Hollow. "Hadou number thirty-three, Sokatsui!" The wave of blue fire roared, washing over the Hollow and reducing it to cinders.

"Vice-Captain Matsumoto, of two hundred and sixty shinigami, a hundred and fifty-two of them are still fit for battle. Thirteen are too injured for combat and have been evacuated to the lower districts!"

"A little over half, then," Matsumoto murmured under her breath as she slowly backed towards the 13th District. This wasn't good. At the rate they were being pushed, the battle would reach almost to the Seireitei before they were able to finish the rest of the Hollows off. That was assuming that this was the entire attack, and that there would be no reinforcements for the enemy.

A chill ran down her spine and she suddenly had a premonition that something terrible was going to happen. And then it did happen. From one of the half-destroyed buildings darted out a girl, looking about fifteen years old, clutching something tightly to her chest. She ran towards the shinigami, screaming, "Help me!"

Matsumoto cursed. "I thought all the civilians had been evacuated!" she called as she ran towards the girl, blade at the ready. But what hadn't happened was of little consequence right now. What was important was saving this innocent soul.

"Keep pulling back!" she yelled as she sprinted towards the girl, slashing at a pair of Hollows and purifying them on the way. "I'll catch up with the rest of you later! That's an order!" Turning her attention back to the girl, who had tripped upon a protruding tree branch, she cursed as she pushed herself into a flash-step.

Landing in a defensive crouch next to the girl, who stared up at her with a tear-stained face, Matsumoto scooped her up in one hand, the other gripping her zanpakutou tightly as she pushed off from the ground, vanishing in a flash-step just as a hollow's claw passed through the space where her head once was.

Matsumoto felt a sharp sting at the side of her neck, and suddenly felt light-headed. Something wet trickled down her neck, but she kept going, finally dropping out of the flash-step behind the main defensive line. Crouching and panting in exertion, she put down the girl and smiled down at her. "Are you alright?"

Nodding wide-eyed, the young soul stared in horror at the Vice-Captain. Matsumoto was confused at her facial expression until she turned to face the Third Seat, whose own expression morphed until it was identical to that of the civilian soul's. "Vice-Captain Matsumoto!"

Suddenly, Matsumoto's limbs felt extremely heavy, and she grunted as she dropped to the ground. To her own dismay, her body would not obey her as Haineko dropped from her hand. "Wha-" She raised a trembling hand slowly to her neck, and it came away stained crimson. "Dammit…"

Letting her head fall back to the soft soil, she stared up at the night sky, the starts twinkling brightly against a dark backdrop. As Vice-Captain, she had been trained in basic first aid, enough to know that the wound on her neck was fatal. Only Captain Unohana was skilled enough to fix a completely severed jugular artery, and there was no way the division could get her to the infirmary fast enough for Unohana to perform the emergency procedure required to save the Vice-Captain of the Tenth Division.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the young soul she had rescued drop to her knees beside her. The girl slowly, hesitantly, held up the object she had been clutching with such protectiveness. Matsumoto smiled softly as she looked at the small framed photograph of a smiling family, the girl in the middle, next to a slightly younger boy and between two smiling adults.

"Your family?" she whispered, her body losing strength quickly. The girl nodded. "Tell… tell me your name," she said, coughing slightly.

"Kagawa… Kagawa Rina," the girl whispered, a tear slowly trickling down her cheek, carving a path through the grime that covered her face. "I-I'm sorry. You got hurt because of me. It's all my fault."

"No," Matsumoto whispered, softly but firmly. "It wasn't your fault. If anything, I should have been faster when I was running." The pool of blood below her head was slowly increasing in size as crimson liquid continued to pump out of Matsumoto's neck. "Ah, damn it. Don't have much time left. Listen, Kagawa-chan. When the rest of my division takes you back to the Seireitei, look… look for my Captain. He's pretty… well known, so if you just ask around for Hitsugaya Toushiro… anyone should be able to… point you his way. You'll… you'll recognize him when you see him. He's really short and has white hair." She let out a small chuckle, recalling all the times her superior had scolded her for drinking or sleeping on the job. "Tell him that… Matsumoto Rangiku sent you… and tell him… tell him that I… that I said 'thank you'… He'll know… what I mean…"

"A-alright," Rina said, tears now falling unashamedly from her eyes, a few stray drops splattering against Matsumoto's face, washing away the few drops of blood that sat upon her cheek.

Matsumoto smiled bitterly as she thought to another event, not all that long ago, where she had been the one kneeling over another shinigami, bleeding to death, dying to protect. The air left her lungs in one final sigh, and her eyes slowly shut as one last thought ran through her mind. _Gin…_

Hitsugaya Toushiro felt something _tickle_, for the lack of a better word, deep inside his soul, and somehow he knew that something was very, very wrong. He resisted the urge to twitch as he stood with the rest of the Captains before the crowd of assembled shinigami on Soukyoku Hill.

A messenger flash-stepped next to Yamamoto, whispering something in his ear before flashing away again. The Captain-Commander nodded and said to the Captains, "We shall begin when the rest of the Tenth Division, which has just finished the defense of the West Rukongai, rejoins the rest of the force."

The tickle turned into worry as Toushiro thought of his division. Although their battle had not been nearly as difficult as that of the Third Division, two thousand Hollows was not a number to sneeze at. But his pride as the Tenth Division Captain welled up in him, and he knew that despite any losses, the Division would continue to fulfill their proud duty as a division of the Gotei 13.

A number of reiatsu signatures soon joined the crowd of shinigami milling about before them, and Toushiro frowned when he realized that he couldn't feel his Vice-Captain's among them. He could feel a number of his seated officers, but a number of them were missing, causing his frown to deepen.

"I'm sure that if they aren't here, they're probably in the Fourth Division infirmary," Kyouraku murmured from beside him, knowing exactly what the youngest and most inexperienced Captain was thinking. "You can go pay them a visit when this speech is over."

Toushiro nodded gratefully as the senior Captain reassured him. He stood up straighter as the Captain-Commander finally began speaking.

"Members of the Gotei 13!" he called, his old but commanding voice carrying across Soukyoku Hill easily, silencing the murmurs of the crowd. All eyes were riveted upon him now. "Some of you may be aware of the events that have happened today. Some of you may not. Some of you have already experienced the horrors that we will all eventually face. The truth is, Soul Society is in peril. The flow of souls has been disrupted by mass genocide in the world of the living, and the number of new souls is too great for our forces in the living world to handle. This is why those of you who were on active duty were also recalled to the Soul Society. Remaining in the living world is too dangerous due to the large amounts of recent Hollows."

Some shinigami began to mutter, but were quickly silenced as Yamamoto continued, "Twelve hours ago, the Soul Society was invaded. The number of Hollows in the living world and in Hueco Mundo was too great, and they spilled into the Soul Society. The Third, Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Divisions were tasked with defending each quarter of the Rukongai from the Hollow threat."

Yamamoto paused, and a tense silence filled the hill. "What I am about to inform you next may be difficult for some of you. But even as you listen, remember that you are proud members of the Gotei 13, and that your fallen comrades died honorably while fulfilling their duty."

He signed, closing his eyes for a moment. Toushiro knew at that moment that the Captain-Commander was tired. He had been tasked by the Spirit King to protect Soul Society, and now it was on the verge of falling. "The South Rukongai is no more. The Third Division successfully managed to defeat a force of eight thousand Hollow, but they were unable to do so while protecting the districts. As many civilians as possible were evacuated, but the Rukongai itself has been destroyed."

Cries of anguish and sorrow rose from the crowd, but Yamamoto continued as if he hadn't even heard them. "I addition, the Third Division took heavy casualties. Along with two-hundred and three members of the division, Vice-Captain Izuru Kira has fallen in battle."

Toushiro felt pain tear through his heart as he saw Hinamori Momo in the crowd, staring at the Captain-Commander in shock and disbelief. He would have to go speak with her later, to comfort her in these troubled times.

"I shall not lie when I say to you, this battle is not yet over," Yamamoto said, cutting into Toushiro's thoughts. "At the rate of Hollowfication in the living world, the Soul Society will be invaded by many more Hollow. It is likely that we may have to end up defending the Seireitei itself, not just the Rukongai."

The Captain-Commander's voice was grave. "The times ahead of us will be difficult, and many shall die. But even as this happens, we_ must _remember who we are. We are the Gotei 13. We have sworn an oath to protect the innocent souls of the Soul Society to the best of our ability, and we shall continue to do so, even unto death!"

A roar rose from the crowd, and Toushiro felt his skin prickle at the rise of reiatsu. It was rare for a Captain to be affected by spiritual pressure, but the combined weight of the entire Gotei 13 was more than enough for Toushiro to feel. He smirked. "The Gotei 13," he murmured quietly to Kyouraku beside him. "They are a formidable force."

Kyouraku tipped his wide-rimmed straw hat back with a finger. "_We_," he corrected the young Captain. "We are a formidable force. Do not forget, Captain Hitsugaya, that we are the commanding officers of this formidable force before us," he said, gesturing to the cheering shinigami before them. And like Yamamoto said, we must fulfill our duty ourselves."

Toushiro nodded. "We shall," he said, vanishing in a flash-step, intent on finding Hinamori to comfort her, and to visit the infirmary to look for his Vice-Captain.

Hinamori was dry-eyed as she walked with her childhood friend to the Fourth Division. The news of Kira's death had been a shock, but Toushiro had managed to take her mind off it. There would be time to grieve for her fallen friend later, when this battle was over. Hopefully.

The two walked in companionable silence, not touching but not far away from each other either. They had known each other for so long that they were practically siblings, and Hinamori felt grateful that she had such a good friend in her times of weakness.

"Captain Hitsugaya!" A voice caused both of them to stop and turn around. A girl, a civilian by the looks of her, was running after them, panting for breath. "Captain Hitsugaya!"

"Yes?" Toushiro asked, a bit impatient. He wished to go see his subordinates. "Can I help you?"

"M-my name is Kagawa Rina, sir," the girl introduced. "I was evacuated from the West Rukongai 14th District."

"West Rukongai, huh," Toushiro murmured. It was the sector his division had been assigned to defend. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I-I'm sorry for yours, too," Rina said, causing Toushiro to snap his head up to stare at her.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"I don't really know how to put this, sir," Rina stammered, "I- that is, Matsumoto-san- I mean…"

"Spit it out!" Toushiro snapped, and Hinamori frowned at him. "Sorry," he sighed in apology. "I'm a little tense right now. I assume you're talking about the members of the division who fell in battle?"

"Sort of," Rina admitted. "It's mostly about Vice-Captain Matsumoto."

"You saw her?" Toushiro asked. "Where is she?"

Rina was silent, and he saw a single tear trickle down her face. A horrifying possibility struck him, and he paled. "No…" he murmured, his eyes wide.

"Sh-she told me to look for you," Rina said, tears falling freely from her eyes now. "Sh-she saved me, and she died doing it."

Toushiro fell to his knees in shock. Numbness overtook his being as he tried to process this information. Matsumoto was dead. She was gone. His loyal Vice-Captain who had been at his side for almost as long as he could remember, who had been his mentor before he was promoted, and who continued to fight beside him even after he became Captain, was gone. He would never yell at her for drinking in the morning again. He would never yell at her for sleeping on duty, for leaving her empty sake bottles all over his desk, for letting the paperwork pile up from neglect ever again. Matsumoto was gone.

"She told me… to tell you," Rina continued as Toushiro continued to stare at the ground in disbelief, "that she said 'thank you', and that you would know what she meant."

Toushiro couldn't help but smile through his grief, and he felt a warm hand rest upon his shoulder. He looked up to see Hinamori smiling sadly at him. "It's going to be alright," she said in a comforting whisper.

"Hinamori… Kagawa-san… let's go to my office," he said flatly. Together they rose and walked to the Tenth Division and, ignoring the fact that the division was emptier than before, entered his office.

Sitting down heavily in his chair behind his desk, he placed his head in his hands and sighed. "She's dead… I never thought…"

"Shiro-chan…" Hinamori murmured. He didn't even react at the childish nickname, and Hinamori knew that Toushiro was in shock. She turned to the civilian and smiled. "Kagawa Rina-san, right? I'm Hinamori Momo. I'm the Vice-Captain of the Fifth Division. I'm Toushiro's childhood friend, and I knew Matsumoto-san as well. She helped me out quite a bit when I was in a bit of trouble a while ago." She smiled wistfully as she remembered the entire Aizen incident a while back. "You're from the Rukongai?"

Rina nodded. "Both of us are, too. West Rukongai, 1st District," Hinamori added wistfully.

"So your home is still standing," Rina muttered, a bit bitterly as she thought to her devastated home.

"Not really," Toushiro said, not raising his head. "Hinamori and her grandmother adopted me when I first came to Soul Society and Granny raised me as if I were her own grandson. She died a few years ago, though. Since then the Gotei 13 has been our home."

He heaved a sigh as he remembered his life in the Rukongai, up until he was found by his Vice-Captain and persuaded to join the Gotei 13 to protect his grandmother. A sudden thought struck him, and he slowly reached under his desk. His questing fingers were rewarded as they made contact with a ceramic bottle, and he pulled out the bottle of sake, setting it with a soft _clack_ on the wooden tabletop.

Hinamori's eyes widened as Rina looked at the bottle curiously. "Typical," Toushiro muttered, subdued irony lacing his voice. "Matsumoto hides her favorite, most expensive sake under my own desk." Groping around some more, he pulls out three cups and sets them also on the table. "How about a drink?" he asked, pouring sake into the cups without waiting for a reply. "It's only… fitting, I suppose."

And so the three sat in Captain Hitsugaya Toushiro's office in the Tenth Division, drinking sake in memory of the fallen Vice-Captain Matsumoto Rangiku. The superior, the friend, and the one for whom she had given up her life for, mourning together in silence for someone who had played an important role in their very existences.

* * *

Well, that was depressing... I know that Ichigo didn't make his appearance again, but rest assured: he'll make his appearance soon. Although the amount of good he'll do in defending the Soul Society is yet to be seen. Also, sorry for killing Matsumoto, but you guys are going to have to get used to character death, since I have many, MANY more planned.

Now, I have a quick question for you guys. How many of you have watched/read Fullmetal Alchemist or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood? It's quite popular but I know that there are still many out there who haven't watched or read it. The reason is because I needed a third party in this story to tie everything together. I'm not saying that this is going to turn into a triple HP/Bleach/FMA crossover. I'm just using the characters from FMA to be a third party to help against Voldemort, to balance out the numbers a bit, so to speak. In fact, the FMA characters that I'm using won't even be from the canon FMA-verse. They're actually going to be (slight spoiler) refugee fighters who escaped America after Voldemort took over there. So you won't need to have read/watched FMA to know what's going on. Just consider any unfamiliar names to be OC's if you haven't watched/read FMA, since with this sort of story I naturally need many OC's that play minor roles. Anyways, I hope that the introduction of these characters next chapter (spoiler again) won't turn you off from reading this story. I truly believe that **A Common Enemy** is going to be my greatest work I've written for this website, and I'm hoping that the response will befit that status.

At any rate, sorry for boring you with my long author's note (if you even bothered to read it). I hope you enjoyed Chapter 3 of **A Common Enemy**, which at over 5,000 words is the longest chapter yet for this story (but not the longest overall). If you liked it, review and tell me why! If you didn't, review and tell me why not! Please take a moment to add my story to your alerts or favorites, drop a review, and I'll see you next chapter!

~fokker333


	4. Flame and Fullmetal

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. _

* * *

**Chapter 4: Flame and Fullmetal**

Colonel Roy Mustang snapped his fingers, sending a wave of alchemical flame washing over the trio of black-robed wizards reducing them nearly to ashes. His nose wrinkled at the familiar stench of scorched flesh. "Damn Brits," he muttered as he scanned the hallway. "So outdated, with their foolish wand-waving and silly incantations. Lieutenant Hawkeye!"

"Yes, sir!" his aide called, snapping a shot from her handgun, punching a quarter-sized hole in the facemask and forehead of another Death Eater, clearing out the last of the attackers in Central Headquarters, located beneath the Capitol Building of Washington, D.C.

The nerve center of the Magical United States of America had been under siege for four days now. Luckily, it was in preparation for this sort of situation that the Founding Fathers had established a permanent garrison of the top-secret Alchemic Division of the Army at Central.

"What's the situation from outside?"

A dark-haired, bespectacled young soldier poked his head into the hallway from a room, inside of which several other troops were stationed around a large radio array. "Comms just went down, Colonel," Master Sergeant Kain Fuery reported, the harsh fluorescent lighting shining off the three golden chevrons stitched onto the right upper arm of his blue uniform.

"Che," Mustang muttered, snapping again as he saw another masked head poke around the corner of the end of the hallway. The spark ignited, channeling down a tunnel of highly oxygenated air saturated with methane and hydrogen, sending a wave of flame down the hallway and causing the Death Eater to hurriedly retreat back around the corner. "Alright, Sergeant. Keep me posted and let me know when you get through to General Grumman. Breda! How're we doing on ammo?"

"Sir, we're beginning to run low!" the stocky, heavyset Second Lieutenant reported after rummaging briefly through the orderly array of weapons and ammunition laid out on a table inside Mustang's main office. "At the rate the past few days have been going, we have enough for about five more hours before we run out. Supplies are getting low too. Maybe a day's worth of food and drink for the group we have holed up here. Dunno how things are 'round the rest of Central, can't say for certain 'till comms get back up."

"Roger that," Mustang replied. "Sergeant Brosh, Lieutenant Ross, take over my position! Lieutenant Hawkeye, you're relieved also." The blonde sergeant and the dark-haired lieutenant saluted, grabbing sufficient weapons and ammo from the table before crouch-running into the hallway, avoiding spell-fire as they took up positions behind the barricade, allowing Mustang and the First Lieutenant to duck back into the room, where they could rest in relative safety from the Death Eaters.

"Falman," the Colonel called as he removed his uniform jacket and wiped the sweat from his forehead, making sure to remove his ignition-cloth gloves before doing so in order not to soak the source of his fire alchemy. "Give me a sitrep on the situation in general. Any word from London about why the goddamn Death Eaters are attack America, of all places?"

"No, sir," intelligence expert Warrant Officer Vato Falman replied, scanning the mass of papers and reports scattered on his desk. "I've been compiling all the reports we received from all the other areas of HQ before communications went dark. From what's come in so far, it seems like the Ministry in Britain's fallen. The leader of the Death Eaters is Voldemort, a.k.a. Tom Riddle, who's apparently come back from the dead, which is impossible-"

"Unless he wasn't dead in the first place," Mustang concluded. "I see what you're getting at. At any rate, if the Brits have failed, we need to get out of here. If they've already beaten the group of incompetent bastards they called the Ministry, we can't count on their Aurors to come stick these guys into jail. We can't hold out forever if they've got free reign around Europe."

"How do we get out of here, then?" Hawkeye asked. "The only way is down the hallway, and that's where the Death Eaters are coming from."

Roy grinned a feral grin. "Don't underestimated me," he growled, pulling a pair of black leather gloves from the pockets of his jacket, donning them instead of his white ignition cloth gloves he used for his flame alchemy. "Just because I'm called the Flame Alchemist doesn't mean that's all I can do. I passed the State Alchemist exam, after all!"

With a crackle of alchemic energy, Mustang clapped his hands together, slapping them against the floor. A simple trapdoor appeared, and he yanked it open with a grunt as his subordinates gathered their equipment. Fuery destroyed the large radio with a small shaped charge, slinging on a backpack radio in its place. Falman swept the papers and reports into a briefcase, slinging it over his shoulder and grabbing his guns from the table. Breda slung the rest of the supplies onto his back in a large pack, and Hawkeye expertly reloaded all her weapons with spell canisters, holstering three revolvers, two semi-automatic pistols, and slinging a rifle over her shoulder.

"Sergeant Brosh! Lieutenant Ross!" Mustang barked, already halfway down the ladder leading into the tunnel he had created using alchemy. "Let's go, we're leaving."

"Yes, sir!" they called back, laying suppressive fire down the hallway as they retreated into the room. Slamming the doors to Mustang's office shut, they piled tables, chairs, any furniture they could to delay the Death Eaters and buy themselves time to escape.

Less than five minutes later, the doors were blasted inward and black-cloaked Death Eaters rushed into the room, wands drawn. They were greeted by an empty chamber, a destroyed radio, and tiny, fold-like imperfections on the floor.

"…Colonel?" Fuery asked as they traversed the dark hallway, a lantern swinging from his belt, casting long ominous shadows against the walls of the tunnel. "What do we do now?"

Mustang's heels continued to click against the roughly-hewn floor as he contemplated the young Master Sergeant's question. "Falman," he said, addressing the Warrant Officer. "Tell me everything we know about the Death Eaters' leader, the so-called Lord Voldemort." His voice was filled with distain.

"Yes, sir," the intel officer said. Rummaging through his briefcase, he pulled out a sheaf of papers, scanning through them quickly. "Tom Marvolo Riddle, known as Lord Voldemort, attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland. During school, it is known that he made close alliances with people who eventually became the inner circle of his Death Eaters. Upon graduating, one of the first things he did was to seek out and murder his mundane family, since he absolutely loathed non-magical people. He took on the name 'Lord Voldemort,' which is a partial anagram of his name, and began his attacks a few years later. He and his Death Eaters killed many non-magical families and a few well-respected magical families as well before killing Lily and James Potter. James Potter was a high-ranking Auror, and he and his wife were known to have defied Riddle many times in the past. Although they were both killed, when Riddle tried to kill their one year old son, Harry, his spell somehow rebounded, supposedly killing him instead and leaving a lightning-shaped scar on the child's head. Three years ago he apparently returned from the dead using a Dark ritual, and has been building up followers and strength again, probably to reattempt what he failed at the first time."

"So he's a power-hungry bastard with almost no care for human life," Mustang snarled in anger. "I'll tell you what we're going to do, Sergeant Fuery. We're going to kill Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Well said!" boomed a familiar voice from down the tunnel, and all who were present paled. With a crackle of alchemy, a door appeared in the wall, swinging open to reveal a hulking figure clad in the uniform of the army and three teenagers wearing civilian clothing. "It's good to see you again, Colonel Mustang!" the man said again, his voice echoing down the tunnel.

Mustang suppressed the urge to roll his eye at the man's antics. However annoying he may be, the Strong Arm Alchemist Major Alex Louis Armstrong was certainly a valuable addition to their motley band. "Likewise, Major Armstrong," he said, before turning to the three teenagers.

The shortest one had blonde hair and startling golden eyes, wearing a bright red traveling cloak with an intricate symbol embroidered on the back and unmarked white gloves. A silver watch chain hung from his breast pocket. Mustang again resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Fullmetal," he said sternly, addressing the youngest State Alchemist. "You're out of uniform again."

Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, shrugged nonchalantly. "I figured that if I looked like a civilian, it would easier to escape. Those black-cloaked bastards are basically targeting military only right now, and it was pretty easy to just get out of HQ without getting hurt. Right, Al, Winry?"

His younger brother Alfonse nodded sheepishly and said, "We have our uniforms in our bags, Colonel."

The girl, Winry, tapped a wrench impatiently against her thigh. "What I want to know right now though, is what the hell's going on? Why are there British wizards attacking us? I thought we had an alliance with the Ministry?"

"The Minister in London has fallen," Mustang said bluntly. "You remember Tom Riddle? You learned about him while studying for the state alchemist exam, right? Well, he wasn't dead, and now he's back, intent on world domination."

"Dammit!" Ed swore, ducking a swing from Winry's wrench. "Oi, Winry, what was that for!?"

"Watch your language!" Winry snapped. Turning to Mustang again, she asked him, "What are you planning to do, Colonel?" Although she wasn't technically a part of the military, Winry served as an automail mechanic for many of the soldiers and had picked up on some of the mannerisms the soldiers had for superiors.

The Colonel looked nonplussed. "Er, well…"

Hawkeye sighed in exasperation. "You didn't actually have any sort of plan beyond 'kill Voldemort', did you, sir?" she asked.

Mustang shook his head sheepishly. Hawkeye rolled her eyes. "Warrant Officer Falman, as intelligence officer, what would you do in this situation?"

Falman yelped. "What, me?" All eyes were on him now, and the gray-haired Warrant Officer began to sweat. "Eh, well," he looked around at the group. "The force we have here isn't nearly strong enough to go directly against Riddle. Although we have three State Alchemists and another civilian alchemist, there were still enough Death Eaters to besiege Central HQ for four days. If the rest of Central has fallen and the generals are already dead, the wisest course of action would be to go into hiding. We travel around the country, looking for other groups who had the same idea. In time we should be able to amass a force large enough o pose a serious challenge to Riddle, and then we fight him."

Falman suddenly noticed the strange looks they were giving him, and he became flustered immediately. "Ah, you asked for my opinion!" he stated defensively. "All I did was give it!"

"An excellent plan," Mustang complimented, catching Falman off-guard.

"Eh?"

"It was quite well-thought out in general," Hawkeye agreed.

"Much better than what Colonel Mustang could have come up with," Ed said cheekily, nimbly dodging the Colonel's indignant swipe. "It's true!"

"Che," Mustang muttered. "Whatever. At any rate, we will follow your plan. Breda, what do we know about the British wizards' fighting styles?"

The heavy-set intelligence officer spoke up, "They almost exclusively fight with magic, as far as we can tell, sir. Due to pureblooded British wizards' superiority complex, they practically cut themselves off completely from non-magical society. Their hand-to-hand combat skills are a bare minimum, and their spells have a fairly short range. With a sniper like Lieutenant Hawkeye here, we have a large advantage over them."

"How much do they know about alchemy?" Ed asked. "I know that Nicholas Flamel was French, so the British might have some basic knowledge. The old British wizard, Fumble-whatever, tried to get apprenticed to Flamel, but the old man turned him down."

"I believe that alchemy is practiced almost exclusively in America," Armstrong rumbled. "Ironic, is it not? That one of the youngest nations in the world with roots in Europe is the only country to practice one of the oldest forms of art."

The taller, and younger, Elric brother spoke up. "Um, with all due respect, sirs, does that not mean that we should keep our abilities secret from the Death Eaters? Having the element of surprise would give us a great advantage in battle."

Mustang smirked. "Good catch, Alfonse. Sometimes I mistake you for the older brother. I mean, you already _look_ like the older sibling, so all that remains is your maturity level, which is usually higher than that little shrimp's," he said, jerking a thumb to indicate the older but shorter brother.

Steam seemed to shoot out from Ed's ears and his face turned red. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING A SHRIMP THAT'S SO SMALL THAT THE FISHERMEN THROW HIM BACK INTO THE OCEAN BECAUSE HE'S TOO SMALL TO MAKE A DECENT MEAL? HUH?"

Everyone present chuckled at the familiar banter between the Flame Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist. Ed finally calmed down sufficiently to form a coherent statement. "Where are we going, anyway?" he asked Mustang.

"Well, the plan is to look for other survivors from Central," Mustang said, "but we're going to pick someone up first."

Ed and Alfonse looked a bit confused, but all the other soldiers nodded knowingly as they figured out what Mustang was talking about.

A few minutes of walking later, Mustang caught sight of a glint of metal on the wall and stopped. "Here we are," he announced, grabbing hold of the steel ladder bolted to the side of the tunnel, leading up to a wooden trapdoor. "I had this connected a few years back in case I needed to come here in the event of an emergency," he explained as he climbed, the others following him one by one.

They emerged from the tunnel into a large room with shelves lining the walls, their shelves stacked with canned goods and other sultry items. Realization dawned on Ed and Al now. "This is-!"

The door to the storage room opened and a blonde man in a wheelchair, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips and a stubble on his chin, entered, closing the door gently behind him. A grin lit up his face, and he said, "Yo, Colonel Mustang, Lieutenant Breda, Sergeant Fuery, Warrant Officer Falman, Lieutenant Hawkeye. So you guys got out of HQ okay, huh. Been worried sick for you guys ever since we heard that Central was under siege. Store's been boarded up tight for four days now. What's up?"

Mustang smiled at the man, paralyzed from the waist down due to a debilitating injury that had all but severed his spine. "I'm here to recall you to duty," he declared, causing the man to jerk in shock. "That is, if you'll accept. We've got some things to do, and your skills will come in handy."

The man's grin widened, and he pulled a lighter from his pocket, lighting his cigarette. "With pleasure," he said after taking a long drag, blowing smoke nonchalantly into the air.

"Then allow me to be the first to welcome you back to service," Mustang said as the rest of the soldiers broke into smiles as well. "Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc. It's good to have you back."

Half an hour later, they were back in the tunnel, having stocked up on supplies from Havoc's general store, as well as more weapons and ammo that Havoc had obtained secretly from his contacts in the black market. Alfonse had volunteered to push the wheelchair to give Havoc a rest, since he had been working for the past half hour helping with the supplies.

"Well, sir?" Havoc asked, grinding out the stub of cigarette. He was sorely tempted to pull out and light up another one, but a frosty look from Lieutenant Hawkeye stayed his hand. He sighed. Apparently being paralyzed didn't mean the Lieutenant would be any less strict about his smoking habits. "Where to next? Surely picking up little old me wasn't your final destination."

"No," Mustang admitted. "I was going to check around Central to see if any other groups of soldiers had the same idea." He was going to continue, but a burst of static sounded from Fuery's backpack radio.

"Comms are back up!" Fuery announced, grabbing the headset receiver and placing it to his ear and mouth. Listening intently, his eyes widened. Mustang frowned. Whatever the Master Sergeant was hearing wasn't good news.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Fuery shook his head. "Bad news, Colonel," he said, pulling off the headset. "Better hear it for yourself." Turning on the radio's speakers, he adjusted a dial to allow the voice speaking to reach their ears loud and clear. Mustang grimaced as he heard the distinctive British accent in the gruff voice.

"...any groups of resistance, surrender immediately. Your leaders are dead and Lord Voldemort has taken over the Magical United States of America!"

"Dammit!" Mustang cursed. "Well, there goes that plan." An idea struck, and he looked at Fuery. "What frequency are they broadcasting on?"

Fuery looked at a small screen. "The Death Eaters are sending their message on the general frequency."

"Dial it to the classified-only frequency," Mustang instructed, "and send out a general call. The British are pureblood supremacists, they won't know how to operate a radio apart from the bare basics. They'll have no idea how to listen to an encrypted frequency."

Fuery nodded. "Yes, sir!" Pulling the radio off his back, he set it on the ground, turning several dials, flipping switches, and punching buttons in a blindingly fast and dizzyingly confusing sequence. "Classified-only frequency reached!" He reached for a microphone and pressed a switch. "This is Mustang Unit. Repeat, this is Mustang Unit. Any active units in Central, please respond. Repeat, any active units in Central, please respond."

Static crackled as the group waited for a reply, and after a few minutes a voice spoke. "Mustang Unit, this is Miles Unit. Repeat, this is Miles Unit. We're holed up in the East Wing of Central HQ, coordinate grid four-eight-oh-niner. Backup would be appreciated. Over."

Mustang nodded to Fuery, who quickly replied, "Miles Unit, this is Mustang Unit. We're on our way, hang tight, over."

"Mustang Unit, this is Miles Unit. 'Preciate the help. Please hurry, supplies are running low. Over."

"Roger that, Miles Unit. Mustang Unit is ten minutes out. Over."

"Acknowledged. Miles Unit out."

Fuery hung up the radio, slinging it over his back again as Mustang snapped on his white ignition cloth gloves. "Let's go," he said as his soldiers checked their equipment and weapons. "I know Miles, he's a good man. We're gonna go help him out."

"Roger that!" the group replied, setting off at a brisk run, Mustang in front as he led them towards the position of the beleaguered Miles Unit.

Major Miles cursed as he ducked beneath a glowing green spell, firing two shots from his handgun. They punched through the Death Eater's mask, shattering it and the man's skull, leaving him facedown on the floor, a growing pool of blood slowly spreading beneath the man's head. Miles ignored the corpse as he ducked behind the barricade, which bucked and splintered as another barrage of spells smashed into it. "Report!" he barked, reloading quickly.

"Sir! Reinforcements are coming. Mustang Unit will be here soon, ETA ten minutes!"

Miles allowed a small smile to spread over his face. His red eyes glinted under his tinted glasses as he looked around at the group of about twenty soldiers under his command. "Good," he said, popping over the barricade and taking down another advancing Death Eater before ducking again. "Let's hold out for another ten minutes then! If we can stay alive long enough for Mustang to get here, we'll be fine."

"Yes, sir!" his soldiers chorused, returning to battle with renewed vigor. It still wasn't enough, though, as the overwhelming numbers of the Death Eaters eventually became too great for the soldiers to handle. The masked wizards were a mere fifteen feet from the barricade and still slowly advancing with a sharp _snap_ sounded as roaring flames washed through the corridor, targeting only Death Eaters in pinpoint accuracy. Death Eaters began dropping like flies as a series of gunshots sounded, the staccato rattle of gunfire prompting his own men to begin firing at the flanked Death Eaters. In moments, there wasn't a single living Death Eater in sight.

Miles wiped sweat off his brown, running his hand through his distinct white hair as Colonel Mustang stepped into view. "Sir!" he barked, snapping to attention.

Mustang chuckled. "At ease, Major," he said. Bending down to pick up a discarded wand, he ran his fingers down the wood. "You heard the broadcast a while back, didn't you," he said.

Miles nodded. "Looks like Central's done for, sir," he said.

Mustang slowly nodded, his hand closing into a fist around the wand, crushing it to pieces. It exploded in a wave of energy that was easily absorbed by the alchemical array inked onto the back of his gloves. "We're getting out of here, Major," he said, dropping the useless fragments of wood to the floor. "Your men have five minutes to get ready."

"Yes, sir," Miles said. Turning to his men, he called, "Five minutes! You've got five minutes to pack up everything. We're leaving." Turning back to Mustang, he said, "I don't usually question the orders of superiors, but why exactly are we abandoning the defense of Central, Colonel?"

"Most of the defense is done for," Mustang replied solemnly. "High Command is either dead or taken prisoner, and the rest of the forces here at Central can't hold out for much longer if they've already infiltrated far enough to get at High Command. We can't defend HQ any more if they're going to be attacking from all sides. The only option left is to pull out and regroup."

Miles nodded in understanding as he and his men followed Mustang Unit into the tunnel, Armstrong sealing the entrance behind them. "What about the rest of the survivors?" he asked.

Mustang considered a bit before turning to Fuery. "Send out another general call to all surviving forces on the classified frequency. Tell them to evacuate Central as quickly as possible and rendezvous with us at grid square Golf-Lima-Oscar-six-two-oh-seven."

Fuery quickly did so, receiving a few static-filled replies. "That's the best I can do," the glasses-wearing communications officer replied. "Comms are pretty shaky right now."

Mustang nodded. "Alright. Let's move then, no point sticking around here any longer."

* * *

I have so much to say about this chapter, but I can't bring myself to write about anything so trivial in comparison to what happened today.

This morning at 9:40 AM EST, a gunman walked into an elementary school in the small town of Newtown, Connecticut. When the situation ended, twenty children between the ages of 5 and 10 were dead, along with seven others. The gunman killed himself. I don't know what caused the twenty year old gunman to commit such a horrendous act, and I don't know how much pain the families of those killed in the shooting are feeling right now. But I want to show my support for those families who are suffering today. My heart goes out to those who have lost a loved one today. It is truly a tragedy that so many lives, just beginning to flower, were cut short today. Rest in peace, all those children and teachers who lost their lives today. May God be with everyone in Newtown, Connecticut as they attempt to recover from this horrifying tragedy that occurred.

~fokker333


	5. The Fall of Soul Society

**Chapter 4: The Fall of Soul Society**

"Dammit!" Ichigo yelled as he sent another Getsuga Tenshou smashing through a group of Hollow. Flash-stepping into the air and standing there on a platform of reishi, he surveyed the Seireitei. The sekki-seki walls had long fallen, crumbled to pieces by the forceful pounding of thousands upon thousands of Hollows. The battle for the Seireitei had been raging for hours, the entire Gotei 13 mobilizing to defend the center of the Court of Pure Souls, the Soukyoku hill, where the surviving Rukongai civilians were huddled, clutching each other in fear as the shinigami fought for the civilians', and their own, lives.

"Ichigo!" A familiar voice called out, and Ichigo turned to see a blinding wave of snow wash over a dozen hollows, freezing them solid and shattering them to pieces. "They need your help over by the Second Division!"

Ichigo nodded, grimacing. The Second Division and the Onmitsukidou, although highly effective fighters, were not up to full strength like the other divisions, which were spread around Seireitei in a defensive ring, which was slowly being compressed inward by the sheer number of Hollows.

Leaping into a flash-step, he saw Rukia freeze another group of Hollows with her shikai. Taking just a moment to admire once more the beauty of Sode no Shirayuki and its wielder, he vanished with a whoosh, dropping out of the flash-step near the Second Division barracks, where a group of black-clad Onmitsukidou members were busy fighting off about a hundred Hollows. They were struggling, and Ichigo dove in, cutting through four of then in the blink of an eye. Taking a defensive stance in front of the Onmitsukidou members, he called to them, "Hey, are you guys alright? Who's in charge here?"

"That would be me, Kurosaki-sama," a lithe figure that reminded Ichigo somewhat of Soi Fon replied. "I'm Kawamura Tomoe, Third Seat of the Second Division and de-facto head of the Onmitsukidou. Thanks for the backup."

"Don't mention it," Ichigo said as he blocked a swipe and slashed off the arm and leg of the Hollow in front of him. "Also, none of that 'Ichigo-sama' nonsense. It's just Ichigo."

"Yes, Ichigo," Kawamura acknowledged, darting forward in surprisingly fast flash-step, leaving three disintegrating Hollows in her wake. "Onmitsukidou, formation three!"

The Onmitsukidou fighters spread into a wide arc with the outer edge facing towards the center of Seireitei and the Soukyoku Hill, with Ichigo at the center of the arc, leading a devastating charge through the Hollow horde. Smashing through dozens of Hollows, the shinigami slashing, punching, and kicking their way through the crowd, leaving the air blindingly bright with dissolving reishi.

As the Hollow numbers in the area dropped, Ichigo felt a surge of reiatsu towards the West. He had gotten better at sensing reiatsu signatures, and he quickly identified the source as Hitsugaya Toushiro. Flashing next to Kawamura, he quickly explained, "I wasn't assigned to a particular section of Seireitei to fight, so I've been mostly roaming about. I'm going to go help the Tenth Division now, alright? You should be able to handle this area without me now."

Kawamura nodded, and Ichigo flashed away. Landing on the crumbled remains of a roof, he looked around at the scene of destruction that used to be the Tenth Division barracks. With a growing sense of dread, he frantically looked around for any shinigami to help. There were none. "Toushiro!" he shouted.

Another explosion of reiatsu caught his attention as a huge group of Hollows burst out of a building Toushiro recognized as Toushiro's office. "Shit," Ichigo cursed, flashing downwards to confront them. "Ban-"

"Bankai!" A furious shout came from behind him, accompanied by a rush of freezing cold reiatsu. "Daiguren Hyourinmaru!" A familiar white-haired Captain with ice coating his arms and legs, frozen wings protruding from his back, blew past Ichigo, sending pieces of debris scratching at Ichigo's skin.

Ichigo covered his face with his arms, wincing as stones bounced off his face. He watched as Toushiro dived straight into the group of Hollows, blade extended before him in a deadly charge.

"Ryuusenka!" Toushiro growled, his blade sinking in up to its multi-pointed star hilt. His icy reiatsu flared and ice burst from his blade, encasing the first Hollow and stabbing through the rest of the group, freezing all of them into a deadly and beautiful ice statue. He barely noticed Ichigo standing to the side as he flew into the remains of his office. Dodging broken beams and chunks of stone, he desperately cast his gaze around the ruined building. "Kagawa!" he shouted, extending his senses in an attempt to search for the civilian for whom his Vice-Captain had given her life.

"Captain!" The feeble shout reached his ears, and he whipped around to see the girl pinned under a large crossbeam that had fallen from the ceiling.

"Hang on!" he shouted, rushing towards her. In a flash, the beam was gone and he was clutching her shoulders. "What were you thinking?" Toushiro admonished angrily. "Didn't you hear the orders for all the civilians to get to the Soukyoku Hill?"

Rina looked down at her feet ashamedly. "Y-yeah," she said in a small voice. "But I didn't want to leave here. You and Momo-san are the only friends I have left. Everyone else is dead. I didn't want to be alone again."

Toushiro's angry gaze softened as his grip became gentle. "I understand," he said, "but you need to be more careful, alright? You could have been killed."

"Alright, Hitsugaya-san," she said quietly. Suddenly her eyes widened, and Toushiro spun around only to see a massive Hollow disintegrate into reishi as it was slashed in half by a familiar giant cleaver-like blade.

"Touching as this scene is," Ichigo said sarcastically as he locked blades with another Hollow, "Can't it wait? We've kinda got a bunch of Hollows on our hands here."

Toushiro rolled his eyes at the Substitute Shinigami. "This is Kurosaki Ichigo," he said to Kagawa. "He's loud and obnoxious, but he's a good friend."

Ichigo was about to protest when he looked more closely at the girl Toushiro had just protected. Realization dawned. "Oh," he said, looking at Toushiro sadly. "She's the one Matsumoto-san saved, isn't she?"

Toushiro silently nodded. Ichigo sighed, running a hand through his messy orange hair. "I see," he muttered. "I see."

His head shot up as a wave of ice flew past his ear. "Oi, careful where you chuck that stuff!" he yelled irritably at the white-haired Captain. Turning, he took in the frozen Hollow behind him. "Although the new ice sculpture isn't bad."

"Don't let your guard down, Kurosaki!" Toushiro ordered as he scooped a protesting Kagawa up. "I'm going to take her to the Soukyoku Hill to the rest of the civilians. I'll be back in a few minutes, you can hold here without me for that long, can't you?"

Ichigo scoffed. "Of course I can," he said. "Don't underestimate me!" As Toushiro flew off towards the center of Seireitei, he turned to look at the horde of Hollows swarming the area, focused completely on him now, since he was the strongest reiatsu signature in the area. "Alright, you bastards," he said, placing both hands on his blade and flaring his reiatsu. "Let's dance. BANKAI!"

"Captain Hirako!" Hinamori Momo yelled, sending a fireball from her shikai crashing into a small group of Hollows. "Are you alright?" she asked her Captain as he staggered out from beneath the remains of a dozen Hollows, blood running down his face from a cut on his forehead.

"I'm fine, Hinamori," Captain Hirako Shinji of the Fifth Division said, turning to glare at the masses of Hollows gathered around the Fifth Division barracks. He gritted his teeth as he saw another Division member fall. "Brace yourself," he warned his Vice-Captain, raising a hand to his face. Momo's eyes widened at the action.

Dark reiatsu permeated the air as black reishi coalesced under Shinji's hand. In a sharp downward pulling motion, Shinji materialized his Hollow mask, causing his reiatsu to skyrocket. Glaring at the rest of the Hollows with glinting golden irises and black sclera, Shinji flashed into battle, his sealed blade a blur as he cut through dozens of Hollows at a time.

Momo took a deep breath and sealed her zanpakutou, sheathing it at her waist. Holding up her palms to face the Hollows, she began gathering reiatsu in her hands. "Hadou number thirty-three, Sokatsui!" Blue flame roared from her palms, incinerating the Hollows on either side of Shinji's path of destruction. Shinigami looked on in awe as they watched one of the strongest kidou masters of the Gotei 13 display her power.

Fire roared from her palms in a continuous stream as she followed Shinji's path, mopping up any Hollow that survived the Fifth Division Captain's onslaught. Despite their combination, however, the Hollows still came, pouring into the area from the Rukongai.

All around the Seireitei, the scene was the same. Despite the power and strength of the Captains, Vice-Captains, and seated officers of the Gotei 13, the overwhelming, unending numbers of the Hollows began overwhelming the shinigami. Slowly but surely, the shinigami defensive lines began to crumble as soldiers fell, leaving gaps that had to be filled, leaving the ranks thinner than before.

Over time, the Gotei 13 was forced to tighten their defenses, retreating back towards the Soukyoku Hill. Trying to defend a larger area with so few forces would be futile. Even as the Captains one by one went into bankai and all capable shinigami activated their shikai, it was not enough.

Almost fifteen hours after the walls fell, the surviving shinigami found themselves ringing the Soukyoku Hill itself, many battling exhaustion. By now it was the Captains and Vice-Captains bearing the brunt of the battle, despite several casualties among their ranks already. Captain Soi Fon and Vice-Captain Marechiyo Omaeda of the Second Division had fallen during the scouting mission to the world of the living. Vice-Captains Izuru Kira and Matsumoto Rangiku of the Third and Tenth Divisions had perished defending the Rukongai, early on in the battle for the Soul Society.

Several more had been killed during the battle for the Seireitei itself. Captain Kurotsuchi Mayuri and his Vice-Captain, Kurotsuchi Nemu, had sacrificed themselves to destroy the valuable information contained in the databases of the Research and Development Institute, leaving the rest of the division and the RDI researchers to join the battle.

Third Seat Madarame Ikkaku and Fifth Seat Yumichika Ayesagawa from the Eleventh Division, along with most of their battle-crazy division, had already fallen as well.

Vice-Captain Hisagi Shuuhei of the Ninth Division had sacrificed himself to buy time for the evacuation of the Fourth Division's infirmary. His death allowed every single one of the injured shinigami, including those in the intensive care units, to be transported to the Soukyoku Hill, where Captain Unohana and the rest of the Fourth Division medics continued treatment on them and the recently injured shinigami.

Third Seats Kotetsu Kiyone and Kotsubaki Sentarou had been overwhelmed as they escorted a violently ill Captain Ukitake Juushiro from his quarters. They had barely managed to get him to a first-aid station before falling.

The Visored Captains had only begun using their masks in conjunction with their bankai when a glowing Senkai gate appeared on the Soukyoku Hill, a single solitary figure dashing through before it slammed violently shut behind them. Urahara Kisuke's tattered green haori fluttered in the wind as he looked around with growing dismay at what remained of Soul Society.

Without a moment's hesitation, Urahara leapt to Yamamoto's aid as the Captain Commander, along with Vice-Captain Sasakibe Choujiro, Captain Komamura Sajin, and Komamura's Vice-Captain Iba, where they faced off against the largest force of Hollows, leaving the rest of the Captains and Vice-Captains to battle the rest.

"Sing, Benihime!" The crimson wave of energy slashed through a dozen Hollows as Urahara landed in a crouch in the air, kneeling on his own platform of solidified reishi. "Captain-Commander!"

Looking up, frowning, from where he had been incinerating hundreds of Hollows at once with his shikai, the Captain-Commander glared at the shopkeeper. "Urahara Kisuke," he rumbled. "What are you here for?"

"I need to tell you important information, Captain-Commander Yamamoto!" Urahara said breathlessly.

Yamamoto's frown deepened. For the usually cheery ex-Captain of the Twelfth Division to be so flustered… this information had to be important. "What is it?" he asked. "As you can see, we're somewhat busy."

"It pertains to what happens if Soul Society were to crumble," Urahara said as he sent another wave of energy slicing through the Hollow army. This got the oldest shinigami's attention.

"What is it?"

"I'm sure Mayuri-kun brought it up," Urahara grunted as he blocked an attack. "He probably theorized that it was possible for the world of the living to still exist even when Hueco Mundo and Soul Society don't exist. Now, normally this wouldn't be possible. But there is a certain condition in which it can happen."

"Spit it out!" Yamamoto growled impatiently. "We hardly have all the time in the world to talk here, Urahara!"

It was a testament to the seriousness of the situation that Urahara did not smile a goofy smile or whip out his paper fan to hide his face. Instead, he only looked at the Captain-Commander grimly. "The King's Realm has to be destroyed."

In over two thousand years of existence, Yamamoto Shigekuni Genryuusai had never been so shocked. After a moment of silence, during which Hollows almost managed to swarm the Captain-Commander before they were destroyed in a wave of fire, Yamamoto finally spoke. "Impossible."

"Not at all, Yamamoto-soutaicho," Urahara said blithely, reverting back to his old self. "It's simply a possibility that's never been considered before. Who in their right mind would even think about the possibility that the Soul Society might collapse and fall apart? We never thought that something could happen in the living world that had the potential to cause such massive Hollow levels. It was foolish of us, cutting ourselves off completely from living world affairs, and now we're paying the price."

Yamamoto growled in frustration. "Very well, Urahara Kisuke. If this is true, what do you suggest?"

The mood instantly turned serious again. "Statistically, The realm with the greatest chance of being saved if we carry out this plan would be the world of the living. The Soul Society would collapse, and Hueco Mundo would follow almost immediately, since the flow of souls between the world of the living and the Soul Society would be cut off."

"What about the King's Realm?" Yamamoto asked, smiting another Hollow into ashes.

Urahara smiled bitterly. "Well, that's what I came to tell you. Approximately eighteen hours ago, Karakura Town was destroyed. That's why Kurosaki-san and his sisters are here in the Soul Society, and Isshin and the others aren't."

"Your point is?"

"My point is, the Hollows slaughtered a hundred thousand souls in Karakura Town. Somehow, the King's Key was manifested and the King's Realm was opened. This all happened after Ichigo-san and his sisters evacuated, so he doesn't know anything about what happened afterward. The Precipice Realm has been unstable since the initial invasion of Soul Society, and I wasn't able to fix it sufficiently to get through until now. The Hollows invaded the Kings Realm and overwhelmed the Zero Division, killing the Spirit King. The King's Realm immediately fell apart. I believe it was a fail-safe to ensure that the only way to establish a new Spirit King was if the old Spirit King nominated someone of his choice, or if he died of natural causes."

"So this is an opportunity for us," Yamamoto concluded. "With the King's Realm destroyed, there will be no Zero Division coming to our aid. Then the only course of action to take is to evacuated everyone to the world of the living and destroy the Soul Society in a desperate gamble to see if your theory pays off."

"That's correct, Captain-Commander," Urahara said, obliterating another group of Hollows with Benihime. "Unfortunately, there is yet another snag. The Precipice Realm is unstable and requires somebody to stay in the Soul Society to keep it from collapsing by constantly pouring their reiatsu into it. The only reason I was able to come here and deliver this message and information to you is because Yoruichi sacrificed herself to keep the Precipice Realm stable. I must do the same in order to ensure the relative safety of all the souls remaining in the Soul Society. How many are there left?"

Yamamoto sighed heavily, the weight of the world on his shoulders again. "The Gotei 13 is reduced to about two hundred."

Urahara started in shock. "That's barely a full division's complement!" he exclaimed. "This is not good. We need to do this as soon as possible, preferably _now_. How many civilians are there?"

"At last count, the civilians numbered to about twenty-thousand. The rest were lost during the Rukongai attacks."

"Damn it," Urahara muttered. "Alright, no time to worry about that now. Bakudou number seventy-seven, Tenteikuura!"

"_Attention all shinigami of the Gotei 13. This is Urahara Kisuke. There is not much time to explain, but the Soul Society needs to be evacuated. Please escort all the civilians first through the Precipice Realm. Captains and Vice-Captains, please converge on me. There is important information I need to tell you. Carry out the evacuation as quickly as possible."_

Urahara sighed as he finished giving the message. Nodding to Yamamoto, who began blasting Hollows with fire indiscriminately to buy the ex-Captain time, he flash-stepped to the Hill itself. Thrusting Benihime into the air, he gave his zanpakutou a quarter turn. "Unlock." The glowing set of Senkai gates materialized in the air.

As the doors slid open and civilians and unseated shinigami began rushing through, the Captains and Vice-Captains appeared around Urahara. "What's the problem?" Ichigo asked, casting a worried look at his sisters. "Why are we evacuating?"

"I have bad news and good news," Urahara began, before getting cut off.

"Just get to the point!" Ichigo shouted.

"Fine, just calm down, Kurosaki-san," Urahara said placatingly as he continued to pour reiatsu into the Senkai gate, keeping it stable. "The King's Realm was destroyed shortly after Karakura Town was. Luckily, this was an opportunity for us to save the world of the living. If we destroy the Soul Society and Hueco Mundo, the living world will still maintain its existence. I don't know what will happen to the cycle of reincarnation, but at the very least the souls still alive in the world of the living will be saved. Captain-Commander Yamamoto is going to release his bankai, annihilating the Soul Society and the Hollows simultaneously. With the Hollows dead, Hueco Mundo will fall apart and this whole ordeal will be over. I don't know what will happen to your spirit-based powers if the spirit realms don't exist anymore, but you'll have to find that out yourselves. I have to stay here to keep the Senkai gate stable. Don't worry, the Cleaner got destroyed when the flow of souls was disrupted."

"I'm staying," deep voice rumbled. "I at least owe Captain-Commander Yamamoto this," the fox-headed Komamura Sajin said.

"I'll stay with you, Captain," Iba immediately followed up.

"Hahaha!" Kenpachi laughed maniacally. "This is gonna be the fight of a lifetime! I just have one request." The berserker Captain turned to Ichigo. "Ichigo, take care of Yachiru. Treat her just as you would your sisters."

The substitute shinigami looked at the pink-haired Vice-Captain and his eyes hardened. "Done."

"Alright!" Kenpachi roared. "Eleventh Division! We're gonna die today, but we're gonna fuckin' die fighting!"

"Very well," Urahara said gravely. "Everyone else, please escort the civilians through the Precipice Realm. We will try to buy as much time as we can. Once in the world of the living, you must find your own way. There is a man named Tom Riddle, the self-styled Lord Voldemort, who is the cause of all this destruction. He will undoubtedly continue killing. You must stop him. Only then will there be peace in the world of the living."

"But-" Ichigo began to protest, but Urahara interrupted him.

"But nothing, Ichigo," he said seriously. "Too many people have already given up their lives for this chance. Several more are going to do the same. This is the only way, so don't waste the sacrifices of your father and your friends."

"Fuck," Ichigo swore. "Alright." A sudden thought struck him and he turned to the ex-Captain. "You're going to die, aren't you, keeping the Senkai gate stable. I assume Yoruichi-san did the same thing."

Urahara nodded sadly. "That's right. Yoruichi sacrificed herself to get me here, and now I'm sacrificing myself to save the world." He smiled bitterly. "And destroy two others, I guess."

Ichigo was silent for a moment. "…Thank you, Urahara-san," he said, bowing deeply to the startled shopkeeper. "Without you and Yoruichi-san, I would never have attained the power I have today. I owe everything to what you two did, and I'll avenge your deaths by killing this Tom Riddle myself. You have my word."

Urahara grinned. "Heh," he chuckled. "You've never bowed to me before. It's a fitting end, I suppose. Whatever happens, Ichigo, always remember. As your teacher, I'm proud of what you've done."

The shopkeeper could have sworn that he saw a tear rolling down Ichigo's cheek, but he blinked and it was gone, and Ichigo's face was hard again. "Thanks, Urahara," the substitute said.

By now most of the civilians were already through the gate, and the shinigami were following. "Well, that's my cue to go," Ichigo said. "Whatever happens, I'll see you in the next life." He grinned. "Despite the fact that it already is the next life. Goodbye, Urahara."

The orange-haired substitute leapt through the gate, disappearing into the Precipice Realm, leaving only Yamamoto, Sasakibe, Komamura, Iba, Kenpachi, Ikkaku, and Yumichika behind. The battle-thirsty members of the Eleventh Division grinned ferally before letting loose their reiatsu. Komamura and Iba prepared themselves as well, and Komamura, Ikkaku, Sasakibe, and finally Yamamoto roared, "BANKAI!"

Sprinting through the Precipice World, his tattered bankai outfit flapping around his legs, Ichigo brought up the end of the pack of souls as they headed towards the world of the living, the last safe haven. A shudder ran through the entire Precipice World, and Ichigo knew without looking that the Soul Society was burning.

A stronger tremor ran through the passage, and Ichigo stumbled as he felt the ground behind him start to give way. A quick glance towards the front of the pack of souls told him that the exit was in sight. "Faster!" he roared in an attempt to speed up the pace. "The Precipice World is crumbling! Urahara must be running out of reiatsu!"

Finally, after running nonstop for fifteen more minutes, Ichigo burst out of the rapidly disintegrating Senkai gate. His relief of feeling firm ground beneath his feet was quickly overwhelmed by the sadness for Urahara and the others' deaths. This sadness only increased when he realized where they had exited the Precipice World.

The familiar river running through the center of Karakura Town, the place where his mother had been killed by a Hollow, the place where it all began. The sudden rush of emotions quickly brought a lump to his throat as he gazed at the ruined landscape that once was his hometown.

A strangled sob tore from his lips as he thought of his friends, who had fallen in battle only a day earlier. He hadn't been there at the end. He hadn't seen his friends die. And yet he knew that they were gone. His mind conjured images, horrifying images, of Chad, Ishida, and Orihime, torn to pieces, mangled limbs strewn haphazardly across the pavement as the Hollows trampled over their disfigured bodies to destroy Karakura Town. Another image flashed up, that of his father, zanpakutou shattered on the pavement, his head bent at a horribly unnatural angle to the rest of his body, sightless eyes staring into the air as Yuzu and Karin screamed in horror-

Ichigo shook his head violently, dispelling the things his cursed mind came up with. Sucking in a few deep breaths to calm down, he reached a shaking hand to his face and found, to his surprise, dampness on his cheeks. "I'm… crying?" he muttered in confusion. He hadn't cried since… when was it?

"It was that night," a soft voice said behind him. Karin walked up to her brother and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at his sister's face. Tears also stained her cheeks, and he knew that she too was remembering the destruction of Karakura Town. "Dad…" her voice shook. "Dad said that the last time he'd seen you cry was when Mom died."

"You were crying the other time too," another voice said. Rukia. "When Ginjou took your Fullbring and you'd thought that Tsukishima had turned me against you. That was the first time I'd ever seen you cry. You thought you had lost everything."

"Weeping is not a shameful thing." A male voice this time. _Byakuya_. Ichigo was surprised. "Weeping is a sign of sorrow, a sign that you love the ones who were lost. Mourning is good. It honors the memory of the dead. And yet, always remember this, Kurosaki. Although you may mourn, never let yourself get caught in the past. Always remember that those for whom you mourn would always wish the best for you. Honor their memories by fulfilling their last wishes for you."

"Karin… Rukia… Byakuya…" Ichigo murmured, his voice choked with emotion.

"Captain Kuchiki's right, Ichigo," yet another new voice cut in, this one youthful, but still mature. "The things of the past are gone. Even we 'Gods of Death' can do nothing against the flow of time. Even Kami herself can do nothing. There is no past, there is no future. There is only the present. We shinigami, who have lived many lifetimes, know this well. We look to the future, yes, but we live in the present. If we wish to change the future, we start in the present. That is all there is to it."

"Toushiro too…" Ichigo sighed heavily, sitting back against the grassy hillside. "Man, I've really become a wet blanket, haven't I?" He chuckled, wiping his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. "You're right, as usual, all of you. Chad, Ishida, Orihime, Dad… they all gave their lives to protect mine, and my sisters. Now it's my duty to pay back that bastard Tom Riddle who did all this."

Rukia grinned. "Now there's the Ichigo that we all know and love."

"Don't get tired of it, this Ichigo's here to stay," Ichigo said determinedly, a familiar light shining in his amber eyes. The same light that had shown when he defeated Aizen, the same light when he defeated Ginjou, the same light that shone in his eyes at every challenge, every obstacle the world threw against him, every obstacle that he subsequently crushed to smithereens.

Standing and dusting off his clothes, Ichigo wrapped his gloved fingers around the hilt of his zanpakutou, the chain clinking softly against the steel as he tugged it out of the ground. With a small pulse of reiatsu, he sealed his zanpakutou into shikai, tossing the now-broad cleaver into its bandage sheath over his shoulder. Shaking his head again to clear his mind, he gazed up at the dark, star-studded sky. "I guess we've got work to do then, huh."

They nodded, but before anyone could say anything, _something_ happened. The shinigami all felt it. A tremor went through the air, and something inside them changed. Their bodies once composed of reishi, merely conglomerations of spiritual particles with their souls holding them together, slowly became solid.

They stared as their bodies became flesh and blood, becoming _human_ again. As the transformation finished and the two hundred shinigami and twenty thousand civilians stood, silent, marveling at the fact that they were, for the first time in many years, living, breathing humans, not just souls in the afterlife, Byakuya heaved a sigh, something that Ichigo had never seen the Captain do before. "It appears that the Soul Society has finally fallen."

The noble Captain began walking through the crowd, never once losing his commanding visage, until he stood before the entire crowd of souls-turned-humans. "Inhabitants of Soul Society," he announced, his voice quiet but carrying so that every person standing in what was left of Karakura Town could hear. "This transformation can only mean one thing. Soul Society has fallen. I request that we pay our respects for those who have fallen in defense of our destroyed homes. Let us remember the loved ones whom we have lost, and to forever keep them in our hearts." He bowed his head, and everyone followed suit, and a few sobs could be heard as people began realizing the implications of what had happened.

After a minute, Byakuya continued firmly, "We do not yet know the details of this change in the very nature of our existence. We are humans now, living humans. But we shinigami retain our abilities and our zanpakutou. Even now I still feel Senbonzakura within my soul. I do not doubt that if I tried, I could still release shikai, and bankai. But the world is different now. There is no Soul Society, no Hueco Mundo, only the world of the living. And so we shall adapt. Humanity's greatest strength is to adapt, and we are humans. We shall survive. We shall grow strong. And we shall defeat the one who is responsible for the mass murder of millions of innocent human lives, who caused this imbalance in the flow of souls and whose actions led to the destruction of the Soul Society and the permanent loss of millions of souls. We shall kill the man known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, the self-styled Lord Voldemort. I, upon my honor as Captain of what remains of the honorable Gotei 13, and my title as the head of the noble Kuchiki Clan, which was destroyed, do swear."

* * *

This one was a doozy to write... So now you know what Ichigo was up to, and what happened to the Soul Society. I apologize to those who complained about how the backstory was dragging on a bit, but it's really necessary, or else the present story won't make any sense at all. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

Shameless plug time! If any of you watch/read Naruto, I've published a number of oneshots on my profile centered around Neji (RIP). They're called **Hand in Hand in Death** and **Never Ending Story**. The latter is actually a series of oneshots that I'm collaborating on with my sister. Go check them out if you want!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter of **A Common Enemy**. Drop a review if you would be so kind, add it to your favorites/alerts if you feel inclined to, and I'll see you next week for the next update!

~fokker333


	6. First Contact

**Chapter 6: First Contact**

Major Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, saluted casually with a gloved hand as he surveyed the sixty or so soldiers standing at attention. He, Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, Major Miles, and Major Alex Louis Armstrong, the Strong Arm Alchemist, stood before the soldiers who had managed to escape the capital after the Death Eaters had taken over almost two years ago. In the two years since the fall of the Ministry in Britain, as well as the government in America, Voldemort had expanded his grip and sphere of influence, encompassing most of Europe and the Americas.

"At ease!" Mustang barked, and the soldiers, whom they had trained extensively to become even more formidable than when they still served the government, simultaneously relaxed, dropping into parade ground stances. "Well, men. It's been two years since Riddle and his pet Death Eaters took over Britain and America. I believe that in that period of time, we have become stronger than we ever have. But we are not strong enough still. Intel has it that the Death Eaters number about 500, almost ten times our own. Although we are undoubtedly superior in training, their sheer numbers alone put us at a great disadvantage in a battle."

He paused, and Miles, the second in command of the group, picked up the speech. "We have decided, therefore, to attempt to create alliances with any British wizards we can find. We received information a few days ago about a fairly large group of wizards, who used to be quite politically powerful before the Ministry fell. I believe that they're led by a young man named Harry Potter."

Mustang continued, "Therefore, we shall attempt to make contact with this resistance group and create an alliance. In addition to their group, there are no doubt other resistance groups active in the areas Riddle and his men have taken over. His method seems to be simply placing his high-level Death Eaters in positions of power within the government of the area, effectively putting the country under his control. Any questions?"

A slim blonde woman with the chevrons of a corporal raised a hand. "How are we going to find this Harry Potter and his group, Colonel?" she asked. "They could be anywhere."

"An excellent question," Mustang replied, beginning to pace. "Intel tells us that Riddle is occupied with affairs in Italy. Britain is currently the only country directly under the control of Riddle. The plan is to lure Potter's group from hiding by attacking a Death Eater patrol. If they are in the same situation as us, which we suspect they are, they will want to make alliances as well. This will be a gamble, however. We may alert the Death Eaters that a new major resistance group has entered the picture. Therefore this mission will be carried out with the utmost caution, with as few soldiers as possible to ensure its success."

"Then who's going to be on the mission?" another soldier asked.

"Major Elric and First Lieutenant Hawkeye will be in charge of the squad who will engage the Death Eaters," Miles said, pushing his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose. "They have selected a roster of troops to accompany them. I believe the squad consists of six others apart from them. After this meeting is over, they shall contact you. Finally, in preparation for this mission, we will be moving our base of operations to Great Britain. Be prepared to move out at 0800 hours tomorrow morning. Second Lieutenant Havoc secured a cargo ship for us to piggyback on. Dismissed!"

"Yes, sir!" the troops chorused, saluting simultaneously before dispersing. Ed relaxed from his at attention stance, turning to his superior.

"You really think there'll be people willing to join with us?" he asked Mustang. "This Voldemort guy seems to have quite a bit of influence. Britain's been almost completely decimated, and he's installed puppet governments all over Europe, not to mention here in America."

"Fullmetal," Mustang said. "There's one thing you need to learn about humanity. Whenever tyrants rise, there will always be people who resist. It is why we fight. It is why others fight. A great man once said, 'All that is necessary for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing'. There will always be good men in the world, and the truly good will always fight."

Ed grinned. "You're so corny, Colonel," he teased, a sadistic grin gracing his face. "What would Lieutenant Hawkeye say if she could hear you now?"

"What would who say?" a familiar voice said behind the red-cloaked alchemist, who froze, sweat trickling down his face. Turning around slowly to face the stern face of the aforementioned First Lieutenant, a hand at her waist where one of her many pistols was holstered. "Were you talking about me, Major Elric?"

"N-n-no ma'am," Ed stammered to the blonde sharpshooter, whose serious visage quickly broke into a small smirk. Mustang didn't have nearly the same amount of self-control.

"Hahahaha!" the raven-haired alchemist burst out laughing, causing an irritated tick mark to appear on his forehead. "Good one, Lieutenant!" he crowed, slapping Ed on the back. "Serves you right, shrimp!" he sneered at his shorter subordinate.

"Sir," Hawkeye interrupted before Ed could explode in anger. "I have a pile of paperwork here for you to sign regarding the cargo ship that Lieutenant Havoc obtained."

The tables were quickly turned as Mustang paled, turning smartly on his heel and marching away, calling over his shoulder, "I forgot, I have something to do!"

Hawkeye sighed, shaking her head and smiling ruefully. "Things haven't changed at all, have they?"

Ed grinned. "Would you prefer it if they did?"

She thought for a moment, recalling all the fun moments their team had in the past. "I suppose not," she mused.

Everyone present looked disgusted as the sounds of retching and splashing reached their ears. Mustang threw a repulsed look at Breda, who sat in the corner of the cargo hold, a bucket held between his legs, his face a lovely shade of green. "Never thought you'd be seasick," he muttered, turning away from the vomiting Second Lieutenant and clapping his white-gloved hands over his ears to try and block out the nausea-inducing sounds of half-digested food and stomach fluid splashing noisily into the bucket.

Ed wrinkled his nose. "The smells getting pretty nasty," he said, waving a hand in front of his face to try and clear the air. "Is there any way we can get him on deck so the rest of us don't have to listen to and smell him hurling?" he complained.

"Unfortunately, no," Hawkeye said. "The risk of being spotted by a patrol is too high. We'll just have to cope."

"Ugh," Ed groaned. "How much longer will this trip take?"

Mustang smirked at the childish Fullmetal Alchemist. The Flame Alchemist sometimes forgot how young Fullmetal was, due to the blonde's maturity at times. And then, there were times like this, during which everyone was reminded of the fact that Ed was only seventeen and held the rank of Major only due to his position as a state alchemist. Not that ranks mattered anymore, with their usual chain of command decimated by the fact that their entire army amounted to a little over sixty troops.

"We'll be landing in Liverpool in eighteen hours," he said, taking sadistic pleasure in the miserable look that spread across Ed's face. "So settle down and get used to it, we're in it for a long haul."

"Dammit," the blonde mumbled irritably, pulling his white gloves off his hands and stuffing them into the pockets of his red cloak, revealing a normal, fleshy left hand and a gleaming, metallic right hand and arm. Flexing the steel-nickel-chrome alloy fingers, Ed remembered the alchemical accident that had claimed his right arm and left leg, and the life of his mother. He clenched both hands, real and artificial, into fists. "Yeah," he muttered, staring at the floor of the cargo hull. "This Voldemort guy's going down."

"Bollocks, as the Brits say," Mustang muttered as he stepped off the gangplank of the cargo ship, careful to stay in the shadows and avoid the patches and splotches of light thrown by a few random dock lights. He looked around at Liverpool Harbor. He'd never been there before so he didn't know what it was supposed to look like, but the Colonel knew that there should _not_ be half a dozen piles of rubble where warehouses used to stand, nor were there supposed to be scorch marks on the cobbled ground. "Looks like this place got hit hard, too."

As the rest of the troops filed quickly and silently off the ship, which was left unguarded since the crew had disembarked a few hours earlier. Hawkeye, her .45 handgun gripped loosely, approached the Colonel. "Sir, the dock's clear," she reported, clicking the safety of her firearm back on and holstering it at her hip. "And the men have just finished disembarking. Orders?"

"We're headed south," Mustang said, beginning to walk in said direction, careful not to allow his leather boots to click on the cobblestone. "Riddle started his rampage in London and took over the rest of Britain from there. He left the wizarding villages mostly untouched. We'll set up camp near that area and begin scouting parties. Once we leave the city limits, have the men change into woodland camouflage. Our blue dress uniforms are hardly appropriate for the environment."

"Yes, sir," his adjutant confirmed, snapping a quick salute before moving off to begin directing the troops. Mustang called for Falman and Breda quietly, beckoning his trusted intelligence officers to his side.

"Sir?" Falman questioned. "You called?"

"Yeah," Mustang said. "I need to know what the largest wizarding villages in England are. We'll start our searches in those areas. We'll move to the smaller, more secluded areas later."

"Yes, sir," the Warrant Officer and the Second Lieutenant replied as the entire group silently marched out of the harbor, not making a sound as they melted into the darkness, headed towards the English countryside. As they vanished into the night, in a small building in London a single figure started to attention as a shrill alarm sounded. Standing, he spun and vanished in a crack.

"My lord," a hooded and masked Death Eater murmured quietly, bowing to his master. "Our wards in Britain have detected a rather large unknown force. They number about sixty, maybe up to seventy. It seems they came from America, since they entered Liverpool from a cargo ship bound from New York City. Their affiliation is unknown. It would be prudent to assume that they are hostile."

The Dark Lord turned his head slowly and regarded his minion with snake-like eyes. "Prudent, you say," he mused, fingering his wand. "Are you giving me orders, Yaxley?"

The Death Eater gulped. "N-no, sir," he replied, trying hard not to stammer. "It was merely a suggestion."

"I am the Dark Lord!" Voldemort yelled suddenly, causing Yaxley to wince and cower. "Nobody gives me orders!"

"N-n-no, sir!" Yaxley cried, sweat trickling down his face beneath his mask. "Of course not! I wouldn't dream of doing so, my lord!"

"Good," Voldemort hissed, replacing his wand back in its holster. Yaxley breathed a sigh in relief. "Americans, then," the Dark Lord said thoughtfully. "Amycus and Alecto are in command of our forces in England, I believe. How many loyal Death Eaters are under their command?"

"About two hundred," Yaxley answered, still bowing.

"Indeed," Voldemort nodded approvingly. "Then these newcomers are greatly outnumbered. I see no need to return to England myself. I shall stay here in Romania to oversee its conquering."

"You're not going to install a puppet government like the rest of Europe, my lord?" Yaxley asked in surprise.

"No," Voldemort murmured softly. "The Romanian magical government has seen fit to resist my will. For that, they will be utterly destroyed, like the Ministry in London. The other countries gave up easily enough, but Romania shall require brute force, it seems. Now leave me, Yaxley," he ordered. "Return to Alecto and Amycus and inform them of this new group. Tell them to deal with the intruders."

"Your will shall be done, my lord," Yaxley said, backing away from Voldemort, not daring to turn his back. Once out of sight, he quickly turned on the spot, disappearing in a soft crack as he returned to England to tell the Carrows, the lead Death Eaters in England, of the Dark Lord's orders.

In a tall, crooked building in the small wizarding village of Ottery St. Catchpole, a young blonde seer named Luna Lovegood jolted awake, shaking her head as she tried to make sense of the visions she had seen. Flashes of navy blue, a gleaming metal arm, and a flash of white gloves crossed her vision, and she heard the murmur of voices, muffled and unclear. Luna was uncertain whether these blue-clad figures were friend or foe, but one thing was clear. A new factor had entered Britain, and Harry Potter needed to know about it.

Making sure that she was within the wards that protected the ancient Lovegood home, the blonde seer disapparated, reappearing with a quiet pop in a clearing in the woods somewhere in the south of England. Tapping her foot impatiently as she felt the wards in the clearing scan her body and magic before finally letting her through, she dashed towards the center of the patch of ground, ignoring the tents that were materializing around her, paying no heed to the startled looks from the people standing around.

"Harry!" Luna cried breathlessly as she dashed into the largest tent situated in the center of the clearing. "I had another vision!"

Adjusting his glasses on his face and sweeping his tousled hair away from his eyes, Harry Potter, leader of the resistance faction in England, looked up from the scattered mess of maps and reports that covered the table in the middle of the tent, which was charmed to be larger on the inside. "Calm down, Luna," he said soothingly as the seer panted in exertion and excitement. "Take a few deep breaths. Here, have some water." He held up a glass of water, which she quickly swiped up and gulped down gratefully. "Now, tell me-_ slowly_- what you saw," he commanded with quiet authority.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Luna said, "I had a vision again, and I think this one's important. I saw people wearing dark blue, and I saw a metal arm, and white gloves, and a red cloak with a strange symbol on the back. The gloves had a strange design on them, a circle I think, with triangles inside them."

"A metal arm?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"A circle with triangles?" a new voice cut in as Hermione Granger pushed aside the flaps of the tent to join Harry and Luna, followed by Ron Weasley, Severus Snape, and Minerva McGonagall. Together the six of them were the leaders of their faction of the resistance against Voldemort, with Hermione serving as head researcher, Ron as head tactician, Snape as Potions Master and advisor regarding the Dark Arts, and McGonagall as head advisor in general.

"That's what I saw," Luna confirmed. "I think I can recreate the circle I saw," she added, grabbing a blank piece of parchment and a quill. Working quickly and with the skill of one adept in drawing runes, the seer sketched out a circle, adding a slightly smaller one inside it, and inscribing an inverted triangle and an upright triangle. Adding a smaller triangle in the center, she sketched more lines, finishing the circle with a small flame at the top and a dark lizard-like shape at the bottom. "That's what it looked like," Luna finished.

Hermione took one look at the drawing and began extremely excited, prompting confused looks from all present, although Snape only looked at the drawing with dawning comprehension. "This," Hermione whispered, indicating the stylized circle, "is called a transmutation circle." Now McGonagall also gasped in recognition.

"Alchemy," the aged ex-Transfiguration professor whispered.

"Exactly," Hermione said triumphantly, brandishing the paper in her fist. "These newcomers, the ones wearing blue as Luna saw, could be _alchemists_."

"Like Nicholas Flamel?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded excitedly. "Luna," she said, addressing the seer again. "Could you draw the symbol you said you saw on the back of the red cloak?"

Luna nodded, and the brown-haired genius handed back the paper, and the seer got to work. Quickly, a cross with a serpent intertwined around it, topped by a crown and a pair of wings, emerged from her skillful hands.

"A snake?" Ron asked skeptically. "Reinforcements for the snake bastard?" he asked.

"No," Hermione said. "This symbol has nothing to do with _him_," she spat in distaste, careful not to say the taboo name. "This is called the Flamel." She traced the cross and serpent with her finger. "In alchemy it symbolizes what texts refer to as 'fixing of the volatile'. Basically, alchemy involves transmutation, which takes one objects and rearranges its chemical makeup to change it into something else. The serpent is being crucified on the cross, and it symbolizes removing volatile, or poisonous, elements in various cures and alchemical substances. It means turning something that torments you into something that strengthens you. It has nothing to do with _him_."

"So do you think they're here to help?" Harry asked, sitting down, a pensive frown on his face. "If we could join up with them, they could be major assents to our fight. Didn't Dumbledore try to become Nicholas Flamel's apprentice?"

"Along with Gellert Grindlewald," Snape reminded. "They were both rejected. I believe that it would be safe to say that with the passing of Flamel himself after the Philosopher's Stone was destroyed, the art of alchemy has all but disappeared from Europe."

"So where could they be coming from?" Ron asked.

"America," McGonagall said, drawing startled looks. "I heard that the American government employs a number of skilled alchemists. Not masters like Flamel, but their knowledge of the art far surpasses that of any British, or indeed any European wizard or witch."

"So it's a safe bet to say that these blue-clad alchemists are Americans. Didn't the American government fall a few months after the Ministry did two years ago?" Ron said.

Hermione nodded. "So they're remnants of the old American government, and they're on the run from the puppet regime that _he_ installed there. But why come to Britain?" she wondered. "This is where _he_ has the most power and influence, after all."

"They probably had the same idea that we did," Harry said. "They're looking for allies, and they figured that since Britain is the place where _he_ has the most control, it'll also be the place where there are the most resistance factions. They must be here to search for allies. I say we meet up with them."

"It's a risky idea though, Harry," Ron counseled. "We don't know if _they_ know about the Americans' presence here. What if the Americans are being watched?"

"Well, what do you suggest we do?" Harry asked, becoming frustrated. "We've been hiding out for two years, and although the groups grown a bit, we're not even close to being strong enough to oppose _him_ and the Death Eaters. _He_ left about two hundred in Britain, led by the damn Carrows. We have thirty battle-capable wizards and witches. If there are at least that many Americans, we could double our force and become a serious threat to _his _power, if not in general then at least here in Britain. This could be our big break and we could finally end this war. I think it's a chance worth taking, don't you think?"

"Then how do you plan on getting in contact with the Americans?" Snape asked. "We cannot risk compromising our camp, and it would be difficult, near impossible in fact, to send a message without setting off the wards the Death Eaters placed all over Britain."

"So owl messages are out," Harry said. "What about Patronus messages?"

"The wards are keyed to detect those too," Hermione said. "I don't think there's any way to indirectly send a message. It would have to be in person, since the Death Eaters don't have traces on our bodies. That's the riskiest option, but it's the only one. The problem is where to find them, though. We have no idea where they could be."

"If we think about it logically, though," Ron mused, walking over to the table and smoothing out a map of England, "the only port that's open now is Liverpool. It'd be easiest for the Americans to hitch a ride undetected on a cargo ship, any other way of getting across the ocean would leave too much of a paper trail. So it's logical that they're still around there. If they have enough intel on the magical communities, they would look in those areas first. What're the closest wizarding villages near Liverpool?" He cut himself off with a smack to the face, and the others realized what he was getting at.

"…Ottery St. Catchpole," Luna said in wonder. "I was just there! How stupid of me! I came straight here to tell you about the dream, and I didn't even consider it!"

"Well, we only came to the conclusion that the Americans might be around there after combined discussion and deliberation," Hermione said soothingly, calming down the agitated seer. "The Lovegood house is still warded, right? We can use that as an apparation destination, and we can search on foot there. Now the question is who should go."

"I'm going," Harry said immediately. "No- don't try to dissuade me. I'm the leader of this group, and I don't care about the whole 'leader stays behind and commands from the back' thing. A leader is responsible for his entire group, and I'm going to meet these Americans myself."

"If you're going yourself, Harry," McGonagall said, "I'm not going to try to prevent you. But you need some protection, at least. At least three others should go with you, I think."

"I should go," Luna said. "I'll be able to recognize them. My visions haven't failed me yet."

"Hermione and I should stay here," Ron said reluctantly. "As much as I would like to go with you, Harry, it would be unwise for so many key leaders of the group to be in the same place that isn't properly warded and protected."

"Take Miss Weasley and the oldest brother," Snape suggested. "They should serve as ample protection. I know that Death Eater patrols consist of about five men. The four of you should be able to take a standard-sized patrol without trouble. Just make sure to eliminate them and leave no evidence. The Dark Lord will undoubtedly know if his followers are killed, but if you dispose of the bodies properly he will not know who did the deed, although he shall have his suspicions. He knows that you are still alive, Potter, after all."

Harry nodded. "Right then," he said, turning and walking out of the tent. "I'll go get Ginny and Charlie. Luna, we'll have to side-along with you, since the Lovegood house's wards are keyed only to you, right?" The seer nodded in confirmation. "We can get supplies there, then. I'll tell Ginny and Charlie to pack light; we'll use the Lovegood house as a base of operations until we can find the Americans. Is that alright with you, Luna?"

"Sure," the blonde said. "All of our resources belong to the resistance, you know that. Don't hesistate to make use of them."

"Alright," Harry said with a nodded. "Be ready to leave in twenty minutes."

The four members of the resistance arrived at the Lovegood house with a muted pop. Harry, Ginny, and Charlie shook their heads, orienting themselves after the side-along. It wasn't the most comfortable form of travel.

"It's been a while since we last came here," Harry commented as he looked around the house. "At least for me. I think it was two years ago, during Sixth Year. Your Erumpent horn blew up, I think."

Luna smiled thinly. "Don't worry about that," she said airily. "I repaired the damage a while ago. So what's your plan on finding these Americans?"

"I was thinking we could go into disguise and walk around the village," Harry said. "The Death Eaters don't interfere too much with wizarding villages, so we wouldn't be under too much suspicion. I also still have my invisibility cloak with me, if it comes to that. Ottery St. Catchpole is the largest wizarding village near Liverpool, so it's logical that they come here first. Hopefully it doesn't take too long to come into contact with them, but it'll still be worth it if we wait for a few weeks."

He had briefed Ginny and Charlie on the situation with the Americans before they apparated from the camp. They had been intrigued with the possibility of alchemists among their future potential allies, having little experience with the art, like the rest of the British wizards. "What if they attack us?" Charlie asked. "They're Americans, and the American government never really had good relations with the Ministry. They might assume that we're hostile and react accordingly."

"I anticipated that," Harry admitted. "There really isn't a way to show that we're not enemies, except to talk it out. If they attack us, defend only. If we assume that they fought against the Death Eaters who initially attacked Washington, then it stands to reason that they're familiar with the British fighting style. Hopefully they'll be reasonable enough to hear us out."

Ginny frowned. "It seems like your plan to get in contact with the Americans is based a lot on the assumption that they're reasonable and willing to talk. What if they have a grudge against British wizards in general because of what the Death Eaters did? What then?"

Harry grinned sheepishly, causing the redhead to sigh in exasperation. "Well, I guess if that happens, we'll just make up something on the fly. My impromptu plans usually work out, don't they?"

"_Usually_ being the operative word here," Charlie remarked drily.

Harry pretended to take offense. "Have a little faith in my planning abilities, can't you?" he joked as he rummaged around in his knapsack, pulling out the familiar silky cloth of his invisibility cloak. "I'll go scout out the village. You guys get your disguises ready. Be nondescript, no particularly distinguishing features." The disguise spells that McGonagall had pioneered allowed them to completely change their physical features, not unlike the Polyjuice Potion. It had become the resistance's mainstay for disguises when ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion were scarce, something that happened far too often. Harry smirked. The fact that McGonagall's spell was often more useful than his potions was something that rankled the Potions Master for quite a while.

"Yes, sir!" the two Weasleys saluted mockingly, something that Harry had tried to stop them from doing for a year now. It was true that he was the leader of the resistance, but having people salute him was still a rather uncomfortable feeling.

"Whatever," he muttered, flinging his invisibility cloak over his head. "I'll go scout out the village. Meet up in the village center at three o'clock." He opened the door of the Lovegood house, vanishing from sight. "Later."

"This is such a quaint village," Ed remarked, tugging at the collar of the nondescript civilian shirt he had been forced by Mustang to wear. "Reminds me a bit of my hometown, actually."

"Try not to talk, Fullmetal," Mustang said, looking uncomfortable in civilian clothing. "Your lack of an English accent is too much of a giveaway. At least I and Hawkeye can fake one pretty well."

Lieutenant Hawkeye nodded in agreement from Mustang's other side. "Yes, please keep quiet, Ed. You don't want to blow our cover."

Ed sweat-dropped. "You say that to me, but…" he looked at the stiff, formal stances of the two military officers. "…You guys walk too much like soldiers. It's too suspicious."

"It can't be helped," Breda said with a chuckle. "It's just how they are."

"Then how come you guys are fine?" Ed asked, looking at the rest of Mustang Squad, who were accompanying them around the village, which they had learned went by the strange name of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"I guess we're just more lax when it comes to these things," Fuery said. "After all, our lives don't revolve around the military. Well, they didn't. I guess after everything that happened, they do now, huh."

Ed sighed. "I guess you're right. All the more reason to kick Riddle's ass then, right?"

"That's right!" Breda said enthusiastically, prompting both Mustang and Hawkeye to hush him.

"You stay quiet," Mustang ordered. "Let me and Hawkeye do the talking."

"Americans?" a new voice broke in, and the entire group whirled to see an older man with graying hair looking at them with a calculating look. "You here because of _him_?"

"Sorry, I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Mustang said glibly, feigning ignorance, although all the Americans knew exactly who the _him_ the old man had mentioned was.

The old man wasn't buying the act. "You're here to fight against _him_, aren't you?" he asked. "Don't try playing the fool with me, sonny. I've seen too much in my life to fall for that. Come with me. Talking here in public isn't safe anymore. You never know when _he_ might be listening."

Mustang hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright," he said somewhat reluctantly, dropping the fake British accent. "Take us somewhere safe."

"Come with me then," the old man said, beckoning to them to follow.

The group followed the old man out of the village, walking up a hill to an oddly shaped building. Mustang smiled slightly, taking in the vaguely rook-shaped structure, reminding him of the games of chess he had played with the brass back in America. Too bad they were probably dead now, and he had nobody to challenge his skills anymore.

"Interesting place," he commented. Before he could take a step past the fence, the old man held up a hand. "Something wrong?" Mustang asked, holding up a hand himself to halt his subordinates.

"The wards just have to key to your signatures," the man said. "You can come in in a moment.

As the man spoke, the Americans felt a strange tingly feeling run through their bodies, as though they were being probed or felt out by some energy. After a moment, it stopped and the old man nodded in satisfaction. "Alright, you're free to enter. Come on in." He led them in, shutting the door behind them.

Everyone present started as the man turned to face them. Except it wasn't a man anymore, it was a young blonde woman, about eighteen years old. "Sorry for the disguise, it was necessary. Please," she said, holding up her hands to show that she was unarmed, trying to placate the Americans, who had instinctively drawn their weapons. Although they weren't trained on the blonde, safeties were flicked off and fingers sat gently outside the trigger guard, ready to fire if necessary. "That won't be necessary. I mean you no harm, and my intentions are similar to yours."

"Similar?" Mustang asked suspiciously. "What exactly do you mean, similar? And who are you anyways?"

"Oh, forgive my rudeness!" the blonde said. "My name is Luna Lovegood. I'm a seer." This caused many raised eyebrows among the Americans. "I foresaw your coming, alchemists."

"So you know who we are," Ed said, clenching his metal fist. "What do you want from us?"

"I believe that my friends can explain that better. They should be back in a few minutes. In the meantime, would you like some tea?"

"Eh," Ed said, rubbing his head. "Personally, I prefer coffee, but I guess tea will be fi-OUCH!" he cringed, rubbing the bruise from his face after getting smacked by Mustang. "What the hell was that for?"

"Show some manners!" the Colonel snapped. "Now that we've established that neither side wants to fight, we might as well act amiably, right?"

The group, compose of Luna, Mustang, Ed, Hawkeye, Fuery, and Breda were calmly drinking tea and chatting when Harry, Charlie, and Ginny entered the Lovegood house. "Hello, Harry!" Luna said with a smile. "Welcome back! Sorry I couldn't tell you that I found the Americans, but sending any sort of message is too risky."

"That's alright, Luna," Harry said, sitting down at the table. "Looks like you guys are comfortable. That's good, I didn't really anticipate dealing with a bunch of fight-hungry alchemists."

"Well, Luna here said something about our interests being similar, and that you could explain better what she meant," the raven-haired man said. "I'm interested."

"Well," Harry said, "I guess I should start by introducing myself. My name is Harry Potter, and I'm the leader of the resistance in Britain. Please hear me out before you ask questions. A little over two years ago, a man named Tom Riddle took defeated the largest resistance group in Britain, the Order of the Phoenix, and its allies in what became known as the Battle of Hogwarts, in Scotland. After that, Riddle took over the Ministry and began expanding his influence around Europe and the Americas. You guys should know about what happened in America, you were there, weren't you?" Seeing their confirming nods, Harry continued, "The resistance group that I lead is the remnants of the Order of the Phoenix and another group, Dumbledore's Army. There's about thirty of us, and we've survived for two years by hiding beneath concealing wards. There were only about twenty of us at first, but we've grown since then. We've been training to become strong enough to beat Riddle since then, but the Death Eaters in Britain far outnumber us. When Luna saw you in a vision, I thought it was a perfect opportunity to bolster our strength. So what do you say? How about joining forces against a common enemy?"

"Heh," Mustang chuckled, a smile arcing across his face. "Well, that's the same thing we came to Britain to do. I guess that's what Luna meant by 'similar interests', huh?" He stood, beckoning his subordinates. "I'm Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist. I'm the commanding officer of our group. These are my subordinates."

"Sup!" Ed said cheerfully, waving his hand. "I'm Major Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist!"

"I'm First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, weapons expert," the blonde woman introduced herself.

"Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda, Intelligence Expert," the husky man said with a grin.

"Master Sergeant Kain Fuery, Communications Expert," the bespectacled Sergeant said. "And I may have a solution to your message-sending problem. Our intelligence officers have conducted extensive research about the effects of magic and electronic communication. It's true that in magic-heavy places like the destroyed school Hogwarts, the magic will interfere with electronics. But in the rest of the world, even though there are wizards and witches present, our radios will still work. Even in wizarding villages like this, because of the mundane communities nearby, comms still work. We have extra radios, enough to equip almost every member of your group. This way communications won't be a problem."

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed. "So this means you'll definitely join us?"

"Do not mistake us, Harry Potter," Mustang counseled. "Our group is joining _forces_ with your group. We shall have joint leadership of the combined resistance against Riddle. We shall abide by your chain of command, and your group shall abide by ours. We will not be ordered around like minions. We have lost just as much as you have, and we expect to take our vengeance on Riddle as well. Do not make the mistake of treating us as your subordinates, and we shall not treat you as ours."

"That's fair," Harry agreed. "We're a fairly laid back group though, and you guys seem like military. Hopefully we won't have too many disagreements." He gestured to his companions, who also stood up.

"I'm Charlie Weasley," the scarred ex-dragon keeper introduced, holding out a rough, calloused hand in greeting. He shook hands with each of the American soldiers in turn, frowning slightly when he shook Ed's, which, although covered by his gloves, was unnaturally hard and cold.

"I'm Ginny Weasley," Ginny said with a friendly smile. "We're basically Harry's bodyguards while he's away from the main camp."

Harry scowled. "You know I don't like that idea, Ginny," he scolded. "And you guys have already met Luna," he said, indicating the blonde seer. "She foresaw your coming, and from what she saw in her visions we deduced that you were American alchemists. We're all a bit curious about alchemy, by the way. The art's basically been lost in Europe since the death of Nicholas Flamel a few years ago."

"Flamel?" Ed asked in surprise. "That old geezer was still alive?" He scratched his cheek absentmindedly. "Flamel was the inspiration of the alchemy division of the American government. We based our art off his ideals. The Flamel symbol," he sketched out the cross and serpent in the air with a gloved finger, "means 'fixing of the volatile' in alchemy. But to us in the alchemy division, it means something much more important. It symbolizes the cycle of life and death. We live, and we die. While we're alive, we alchemists work for the people. We try our best to live for the good of those around us. And now we state alchemists, who put our skills to military use, are going to kick Riddle's ass, for the good of everyone in the world!"

"Sounds like a worthy goal," Charlie chuckled, a good-natured grin spread across his scarred face. "Looking forward to working with you. By the way, how many people are in your group?"

"We have sixty-four battle-fit soldiers and twenty-three men and women who act as support, such as automail mechanics, field medics, supply masters, and the like."

"Are you all alchemists?" Ginny asked curiously.

"No," Breda answered, shaking his head. "But I assure you, all the active-duty soldiers are fully capable of holding their own against multiple Death Eaters. We were the best of the best of the American military."

"State Alchemists, alchemists employed by the military, like Colonel Mustang and Fullmetal over here," Fuery said with a smile, "can singlehandedly turn the tides of a battle due to their skill."

"Apart from me and the Colonel here," Ed said, "there's also another state alchemist, Major Alex Louis Armstrong, the Strong Arm Alchemist. My brother is also a proficient alchemist, though he didn't quite make the cut to become a state alchemist. We also have several other fledgling alchemists among the troops, but they aren't as well versed in the science. They prefer to fight like the other soldiers do."

"And how do you fight?" Harry asked. He wanted to get an idea of the combat capabilities of his new allies.

"The majority of the troops don't use magic, actually," Hawkeye explained. This was her area of expertise, after all. "I believe that the term you use is 'muggle'. We are aware of your attitudes towards non-magical culture, and quite frankly you would do well not to underestimate our abilities."

"Lieutenant Hawkeye here is the best marksman in the platoon," Mustang praised. "I've seen her take off the wings of a fly from fifty yards."

"You exaggerate, Colonel," Riza deadpanned.

"Well, maybe a little," Mustang admitted. "But I really have seen her take accurate bulls-eye shots from almost a mile out. From what we know about your magic, that's a far greater range than any sort of spell you could cast, am I right?"

Charlie whistled, impressed. "Damn," he said. "You're right. That sort of range gives you a huge advantage over the Death Eaters. The Killing Curse has an effective range of only a hundred meters, and you can't even cast it accurately that far. I'm certainly happy you're on our side then."

"Not to pop your bubble or anything," Ed interjected, "but we have sixty men camped a few miles out from here in the woods. If we're gonna combine forces, should we go to you, or are you gonna come to us?"

"Our camp is protected by about thirty-seven wards," Harry mused. "It'll take a while to key all of your men into the wards, but it'll still be faster than to set them up for a combined group of over a hundred people. Also, I don't know about your camp, but we can expand our camp to provide for the extra manpower. Magic, you know," he smirked.

"Interesting," Mustang murmured. "How do we transport all our men there?" he inquired. "I doubt the Death Eaters would not notice over a hundred Americans trooping across England," he commented wryly.

"All of Britain's been warded against portkeys," Charlie commented. "We could apparate and take the Americas side-along, but that might take a while."

As the wizards discussed options for travel, the Americans gathered around in a circle. "I'm pleasantly surprised," Mustang admitted. "This is going easier than I had expected. I was anticipating at least some hostility, but I'm not complaining about the lack thereof."

"You think they're gonna ask for a demonstration of skill?" Ed asked. "Something like the State Alchemist Exam?"

"I doubt it would be something that dramatic," Mustang murmured. "But expect to show off a little bit. Also, be prepared to give an abbreviated alchemy lesson. The science has been lost in Europe for decades, and I'm certain that there will be wizards or witches among their ranks who are curious about the specifics. Alchemy is hardly a secret ability, so it won't do any harm to let them know a little bit about it."

"Roger that," Ed said, snapping a salute that made an irritated tick mark appear on Mustang's forehead.

"Cut that out, Fullmetal," the Colonel ordered. "Technically, we're still in civilian disguise."

"I'll stop saluting you when you stop walking like you have a stick up your ass," Ed shot back.

Before the annoyed Colonel could punish Ed for his impudence, Harry called over to the Americans, "Alright, we've decided on how we're going to transport everyone." The two groups reconvened, and Harry began explaining. "Our primary method of travel is called apparation, which basically allows us to disappear and reappear at our destination almost instantaneously. Normally it can be traced, which would make apparation very dangerous since Riddle and his Death Eaters would be able to track us, but both the Lovegood property and our camp is warded against spells that would be able to do that. They're designed to prevent apparation as well, but the wards are keyed to recognize and allow our magical signatures through. So we're going to take you with something called side-along apparation, which is basically us apparating, and you guys hanging on. It'll be uncomfortable for you, but it's the only way we can do this." He indicated Charlie, Ginny, and Luna. "The four of us will apparate back to our camp to get a few helpers, and that'll make the process go faster. We can each make the trip with up to four on side-along. The whole thing shouldn't take more than an hour if we streamline the process."

"That works then," Mustang nodded. "And there's no chance that Riddle's men will discover us?"

"I doubt that they don't know you're in Britain," Charlie said with a frown. "The wards alert them of any entrances and exits from the country. But they probably don't know who you are, what your abilities are, and your intentions. They just know that there's a bunch of new people in Britain, that's probably it."

"Hn," the Colonel grunted. "That's probably the best we're gonna get then, considering the circumstances."

"Probably," Ginny agreed. "Now, we should get going. Let's go, Harry, Luna, Charlie." The dragon keeper, the Boy-Who-Lived, the young blonde seer, and the redhead witch vanished from view with a quiet _pop_, leaving the group of Americans looking at the spot where they were just standing in curiosity and slight wonder.

"Interesting how they do that," Breda commented as he sat back down on the comfortable couch, sipping his tea. "Actually, I'm kinda looking forward to working with these Brits. Seeing that display makes me wonder what else these guys are capable of."

Ed grinned enthusiastically, pumping his automail arm in excitement. "Alright! With these Brits' help, we're gonna take down this Riddle bastard for good!" The rest of the soldiers agreed wholeheartedly, if with a little less enthusiasm.

**#**

Sorry for being late with the update, I've been out of the country for the past few days and didn't have access to my laptop to post the chapter. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!

Also, if any of you guys are Naruto fans, I and my sister, Say-theLastWord, are collaborating on a series of Neji-centric one-shots called **Never Ending Story**. If you're interested, please go check it out.

Thanks for reading, drop a review if you please, and I'll see you next week for the next chapter!

~fokker333


	7. Reapers of the East

Nanami Katsuyoshi gritted his teeth as pain coursed like fire through his veins. He would not make a sound. His training as part of the Onmitsukidou had been far worse than anything these wizards and their puny wands could throw at him. He forced down the agonized yell that threatened to escape his throat. Forcing his eyes open, he shot a hate-laden glare at his tormentors. "You're not getting anything out of me," he said, his voice not shaking a bit despite the pain. The black-cloaked masked figure standing over Katsuyoshi's hunched body growled in irritation.

"You're a persistent one, aren't you," the Death Eater growled. "If physical pain won't work, try this on for size! Legilimens!"

A pain shot through Katsuyoshi's head, although it was nothing like the pain he had just experienced, and images began flashing through his mind unbidden, as though someone were forcibly digging through his memory. Images of the hollow invasion of the Soul Society, the bodies of massacred civilians littering the streets as clashing swords rang through the wreckage and sparks flew assaulted his senses as his mind relived the hell that had destroyed an entire dimension.

Forcing himself to block out the images, Katsuyoshi knew that the masked wizard was somehow reading his mind. Panting in exertion as he finally forced the Death Eater from his mind, he intensified his glare at his captor. It was all he could do. Bound and helpless, his zanpakutou confiscated, and at the mercy of his enemies, Katsuyoshi could only move his mouth to talk. Clearly the masked wizards had hoped to get information from him. To hell with that.

"Who are you?" the Death Eater demanded, as he had been doing for the past half hour. "Who do you work for?"

"Go fuck yourself," Katsuyoshi spat, and pain seared through his body again, this time more intense than ever before. He was unable to keep a small whimper from escaping, and his tormentor stopped, seemingly satisfied with getting at least some reaction of pain from his bound victim.

"One more time," the Death Eater murmured, crouching down and touching the tip of his wand against Katsuyoshi's forehead. "Legilimens!"

Katsuyoshi writhed in pain as images washed through his mind again, and this time, weakened by torture, he was powerless to stop it. The Onmitsukidou scout could only watch helplessly as the Death Eater searched through his mind, obtaining information that could compromise the entire remnants of the Gotei 13. Thankfully their policy of compartmentalization meant that as a low-ranking scout, Katsuyoshi was privy to little important information. Unfortunately, he still knew enough about the organization to place his comrades in considerable danger.

"So," the Death Eater said triumphantly as he finished, standing from his crouch. "A new factor has come into play. I must inform the Dark Lord immediately. You, on the other hand, are useless to us now. Any last words?"

Katsuyoshi knew that his time was up. He had given the Death Eaters information on the Gotei 13, however unwillingly, and now he was going to die. Not saying anything, he instead concentrated on creating a Hell Butterfly between his bound hands behind his back, focusing his reiatsu into the small black insect. In the darkness of the dimly lit chamber, the messenger was all but invisible. With one last burst of reiatsu, he sent the Hell Butterfly fluttering back to the Gotei 13's base. Gazing fearlessly into the eyes of his captor, Katsuyoshi calmly gathered saliva and blood from his cut lip into his mouth, spitting it with perfect aim into the right eyehole of the mask.

"You little-!" the Death Eater said, wiping the mixture from his face in fury. "Avada Kedavra!"

In a giant underground cavern under a devastated city, the leaders of the shattered remnants of the Gotei 13 were meeting to discuss the future of the organization.

"I still say that we've been sitting on our asses doing nothing for long enough," Ichigo said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Four years of nothing! We all vowed for revenge against Riddle, and it's about time we did something about it!"

"And I shall say again," Byakuya counseled, "Without sufficient information about our enemies capabilities, we will not be able to work effectively against them at all."

"But Ichigo's got a point," Shinji drawled. "The longer we wait to actually do somethin', the more power Riddle an' his minions gain around the world. Even as we sit here talkin', there's a force of three hundred attackin' Romania."

"We simply don't know enough of the enemy's strengths!" Byakuya continued arguing. "Rushing into battle unprepared will only get you killed."

"I'm sure that there are people in Britain who would be willing to give us information," Rose interjected smoothly. "I personally am growing impatient of inaction. Can we at least move our base of operations to Britain? We can remain hidden under kidou, set up our headquarters, and gain some information in the process. If lack of intel is all that's keeping you from agreeing with our plans, surely this has convinced you, Captain Kuchiki?"

"Hmph," Byakuya said, not saying anything.

"I agree," Toushiro spoke up, and the other captains voiced their thoughts as well. Muguruma Kensei and Kyouraku Shunsui both expressed their support for moving to England.

"Looks like you've been overruled, Byakuya-kun," Kyouraku said from beneath the wide brim of his straw hat, which he had kept over the years. "Then it's decided, we're moving our base of operations to Britain."

Before anything further could be said, the Captains and Ichigo were interrupted by the telltale fluttering and reiatsu ripple of a Hell Butterfly. Toushiro frowned. "We don't have any scouts scheduled for a report at this time, do we?" he asked rhetorically. Nobody bothered to answer; they all knew that this Hell Butterfly was unanticipated.

Kyouraku, as senior Captain, held up his finger and allowed the messenger insect to land, and the message played out for all to hear.

The voice of one of the advance scout members of echoed throughout the cavern, and all activity ceased as every two hundred or so shinigami listened to the message. Thankfully the civilians, secluded in the residential area of Urahara's underground, could not hear, as its contents would undoubtedly cause them to fall into chaos.

_Emergency report. This is Nanami Katsuyoshi, advance scout of the Onmitsukidou. I've been captured by an enemy, who has identified himself as a follower of Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. I've been tortured for information about the Gotei 13, physically at first and then mentally. They have a way to read people's memories, and they used this technique on me. I'm afraid that I've compromised the Gotei 13's existence, although the information they have seen should be limited as I was able to block out some of it, and was not privy to more classified information. Nonetheless, I must warn you, Captains. They know that we exist, and they will take steps to destroy us. My time is almost at an end now. I can only pray that this message reaches you before the Death Eaters make a raid. Please take heed. Nanami Katsuyoshi out._

The message ended, and the Hell Butterfly disintegrated into reishi. After a long moment of silence, Ichigo finally spoke. "That settles it then," he said solemnly. "It's either give them the first strike or take the initiative ourselves."

"Yes,"" Byakuya agreed. "We go to Britain."

"What about the civilians?" Kensei asked. "We can't take twenty thousand civvies with us, and we can't leave them here by themselves, either. They'll be too much of a target."

"I think it's clear that Riddle will target us alone, since we're the only ones who could pose a threat to his rule. He's been fairly lenient towards civilians around the world, but I don't know well he'll react if he finds them in hiding. He can't rule the world if there's no manpower, so he's been leaving the others alone. But I hear that the Death Eaters have been cracking down on factions who even try to resist," Rose said. "It wouldn't be good if he were to find the civilians hiding."

"We can't take them with us," Kensei persisted. "They would be too much of a burden. We can't protect twenty thousand civvies and fight Riddle at the same time."

"What if we have them assimilate with the local population?" Kyouraku suggested lazily. "They could pretend to be refugees."

"Too suspicious," Toushiro disagreed immediately. "Twenty thousand civilians suddenly entering a country randomly? The governments would immediately be suspicious."

"Plus, you don't want to leave Rina-chan by herself, do you?" Ichigo said with a smirk. "She's really grown on you, huh."

Toushiro tossed an icy glare in Ichigo's direction. "She has," he admitted firmly. "And for good reason, too, as you should well remember."

Ichigo immediately looked away, shamefaced at the memory. They had all lost a lot, and he had overstepped his bounds by bringing it up. "Sorry," he murmured apologetically. "That was uncalled for."

Toushiro grunted, accepting the apology. "Don't worry about it. We're all a little worked up," he said. "But the important thing is to solve this problem we have. What are we going to do with the civilians? I know that some of the troops have friends and relatives among them, myself included, obviously. They won't take too kindly to a forced separation. Especially if leaving them behind means that they could be in danger from Riddle's minions."

"So we don't have much of a choice," Ichigo said. "They have to come with us."

There were so many problems with that plan, but the Captains agreed that it was the only choice. They were about to disperse and inform the rest of the troops about the decision when a man with short, spiky brown hair and small horns protruding from his forehead ran up, panting, and knelt into a bow.

"Pardon the intrusion, Captains!" Akon, the former Third Seat of the Research and Development Institute and currently their head researcher, panted. "We've finally finished the project!"

The entire Captain's counsel, who had been tense following the decision regarding the move to Britain and the situation with the civilians, relaxed immediately. "Finally, some good news," Toushiro grumbled. "Go ahead and report, Akon," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," Akon said, straightening. "Upon our arrival in the world of the living approximately four years ago following the fall of the King's Realm, the Soul Society, and Hueco Mundo, the natures of our powers have changed. Our bodies, once composed of reishi, are now flesh and blood and we are no longer capable of enhancing our physical abilities with reiatsu. We are effectively human. However, our powers with kidou and zanpakutou, as well as the usage of flash-step, have been retained. The Research Development Institute and I have been looking into this for the past four years, and we have come to this conclusion. Due to the destruction of the spiritual realms, our powers have become firmly grounded in the world of the living. How this happened is a mystery. However, we suspect that our ability to use the spiritual arts despite the lack of spiritual power is a result of our long existence in the presence of spiritual particles. Despite the fact that those realms do not exist any longer, we can still use reiatsu to a limited extent because of the leftover spiritual energy we have. As you have probably observed during the last four years during training, our powers have been severely limited. We have been forced to fight as humans in a world of humans, and I respectfully advise you to get used to the fact, since it will probably be like this forever, until we end our lives as humans in this world. After examination of our enemies, the so-called Death Eaters under the command of Tom Marvolo Riddle, I strongly suspect that we are still considerably more powerful, especially those of Vice-Captain or Captain level. In a fight against them, Captains and Vice-Captains could probably hold their own using swordsmanship alone. Once you add in kidou and zanpakutou powers, we would be at a considerable advantage. That power advantage is balanced by their strength in numbers, however. The forces of the Death Eaters are roughly double that of ours. This means that in an all-out pitched battle, the outcome would be inconclusive, according to the RDI's simulations."

"Thank you for the report, Akon-kun," Kyouraku said. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes, Captain Kyouraku," the scientist said. "The Research and Development Institute has completed and successfully tested Urahara Kisuke's experimental single-dimension Senkai gate. It will allow us to travel anywhere in the world of the living through a temporary pocket dimension, similar to the Dangai but without the Cleaner. The time dilation factor is also reduced until it is almost one-to-one, but ratio of distance traveled is greater: one kilometer in the pocket dimension equates to roughly two hundred kilometers in the real world."

"This solves our problem then," Shinji remarked. "We can leave the civvies here in the underground chamber, take the Senkai gate ta Britain ta fight, an' return any time if they're in danger."

Akon bowed and walked away as the Captains began discussing the implications this new factor had on their plans. "We can keep our base of operations here in Japan," Kensei said, "and set up a forward operating base in England. Our entire forces don't have to be at the FOB, just an advance guard. That way the civilians will be guarded, and we have a presence in England against Riddle and his men."

"And if they decide to attack the FOB with all their forces?" Byakuya questioned. "If we only have a fraction of our troops there, they would be overwhelmed easily."

"We can call for reinforcements using the Senkai gate," Toushiro pointed out. "With the gate, the strength of the FOB can be up to full in minutes. Then we'll have the element of surprise, since the Death Eaters don't know of our transportation method."

Byakuya nodded at this. "A good point," he acquiesced. "Are we all in favor of this plan?" he asked the counsel. They all nodded their agreement. "Very well. We have a little over two hundred troops, with seven Captains and six Vice-Captains. I suggest that we send two Captains, two Vice-Captains, and fifty troops to England to set up the forward operating base. Is this an acceptable force?" More nods of agreement. "Very well. Who shall lead the advance force?"

"I'll go," Ichigo immediately volunteered. "I'm one of the strongest Captains here, but with less experience. I probably won't be of much help with the decision making that happens back here in our base of operations, so I'll be a valuable asset in the FOB."

"Very well," Byakuya said with a nod. "Who else?"

"I'll go," Toushiro spoke up. "Although I'm less powerful than Ichigo, I have more experience than him. I'll be able to make decisions there effectively."

"A good combination," Rose noted. "A powerful melee fighter and a ranged, support-type who is also capable of close combat. The two of them would make a formidable foe for any Death Eater."

The rest of the Captains agreed. "The two of you will pick the Vice-Captains to go with you," Kyouraku said, "as well as the fifty troops. Will an hour be sufficient?" Ichigo and Toushiro nodded their assent. "Very well. You'll leave for Britain as soon as possible. Take Akon with you, he'll be able to show you the workings of the experimental Senkai gate."

"Yes, sir!" the two younger Captains said, acknowledging their senior's authority. They flashed off, seeking the Vice-Captains that they already had in mind for the forward operating base.

Kyouraku watched the two Captains vanish as they made their way to the barracks area of the lower-ranked shinigami with a smile. "They've really grown up," he mused aloud. "Yama-jii would be proud."

Byakuya also watched the vanishing pair of Captains with approval. "Kurosaki Ichigo is becoming a fine Captain indeed," he agreed. "It is a pity, though. The war against Aizen, as well as this recent tragedy, has forced the boy to grow up far faster than should be necessary for one his age. He has seen and experienced much. Sometimes I wonder if he will crumble beneath the weight of these things."

Shinji sighed, slouching back on his chair. "Ichigo lives up ta his name," he drawled. "_One who protects_. I believe that as long as he's got people ta protect, he'll never lose that resolve. It might waver sometimes. It has already. But he always finds it in him ta keep going, ta continue ta protect those who are close to him."

Byakuya eyed the Visored Captain. "An unusually perceptive statement from you, Captain Hirako," the noble observed neutrally.

The laidback blonde shrugged, stretching and getting up from his seat with a yawn. "It happens sometimes. I'm jus' pointin' out my own observations on the kid," he said, turning and walking away from the rest of the Captains. "And yer right, Captain Kuchiki," Shinji called over his shoulder. "He's becomin' a fine Captain indeed."

"Oi, Rukia!" Ichigo called as he dropped out of the flash-step in the large courtyard where shinigami were training. "Rukia!"

"What's up, Ichigo?" the Vice-Captain of the Thirteenth Division asked as she sauntered up to him casually, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. She had obviously been training as well. "Something wrong?"

"Not exactly," Ichigo said. "We're taking the initiative against that Riddle bastard at last. Me and Toushiro and two Vice-Captains of our choosing are heading to England to set up a forward operating base from where we can launch operations against him. We'll be leading a force of fifty troops there in an hour."

"And so you're here to tell me goodbye?" Rukia said with an arched eyebrow.

"Not quite," Ichigo said, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "You're coming with us."

"Really?"

"That's right." The smirk slowly became a full grin. "We're going to England."

"You say it as though we're on vacation," Rukia said with a smile. "Don't forget that it's supposed to be business, alright?"

"I'm responsible," Ichigo protested mildly. "I know when to take things seriously. I always do."

"Whatever, Strawberry," she joked, eliciting a mock scowl. "So I take it I'm supposed to be packing?"

"Yup," Ichigo confirmed. "Don't pack too heavy. We'll get supplies and whatnot locally. Otherwise, it's up to you what to bring. The group's meeting by the hot spring in an hour. Go to it."

"Yes, sir!" she said, saluting, much to Ichigo's irritation. Before he could protest the unnecessary deference to rank, she flash-stepped away.

Ichigo could only grin as he too set off to pick out the other shinigami who were to go with him. He and Toushiro had agreed to each choose twenty-five shinigami. With a little over two hundred shinigami in their full force, the seven remaining Captains of the Gotei 13 had become very close to each and every one of the rank-and-file. He had already made a list of people, making sure to balance the strength levels. He didn't want to bring all the most powerful shinigami, leaving the home base in Japan under strength. Granted, with five Captains there, that was pretty much impossible, but Ichigo didn't want to take chances. He passed Toushiro while searching for the first of his list of twenty-five, and acknowledged the Tenth Division Captain with a nod.

Toushiro returned the nod and continued to search for the person he was looking for. An explosion echoed in the distance, and the familiar pulse of power washed over his senses. With a small smile, he made his way to the source of the explosion, finding the dark-haired Vice-Captain of the Fifth Division, and his best friend, standing with chest heaving in front of a heavily scorched boulder easily as large as a small house.

"I see you've been training hard," Toushiro said with a small smile.

"Yup!" Momo replied cheerfully. "I've gotten a lot better!"

"That's good," Toushiro said, "because you're coming with me and Ichigo on a mission to England. We're to set up a forward operating base there from which we can launch missions against Riddle. We're going to bring fifty other troops with us. Go get cleaned up and pack your stuff, we're leaving in less than an hour."

"Okay, Shirou-chan!" she chirped, causing Toushiro to sigh good-naturedly. "I'll go get ready then!" She dashed away after sealing her zanpakutou, and Toushiro continued on his way to alert the rest of his troops.

An hour later, Ichigo, Toushiro, Rukia, Momo, and fifty assorted shinigami were assembled and ready to leave. Akon, the head researcher, was explaining the specifics of the prototype Senkai gate. "Basically," he concluded, "it allows us to condense a large distance into a very small one in the pocket dimension. That way we can travel from here to England, a distance of over nine thousand kilometers, as though we were only traveling about fifty. With flash-step, we can reduce the time spend traveling to minimal."

"Thank you, Akon-san," Ichigo said. Turning to the assembled troops, he raised his voice. "Now, you all know that our mission is to set up a forward operating base in England so we can make a first strike against Riddle. We're finally doing something against the bastard that caused the destruction of the Soul Society. We have all lost much. Some more than others. But none of that matters. Because we have all been wronged, and we have all sworn vengeance. And this mission, starting today, starting _right now_, is the beginning of that vengeance. All you need to do is to put your entire beings into defeating Riddle. I know that I'm going to. So who's with me?"

A roar rose from the fifty shinigami, and after a nod from Akon, Ichigo dashed straight into the open Senkai gate, with Toushiro, Rukia, Momo, and the rest of the shinigami following. In moments they were all through, and the glowing gates slammed shut, fading into the air.

"Man," Kyouraku said, pulling his straw hat over his face, hiding his wide grin. "They're getting all worked up. I guess we should start training harder in preparation for our upcoming campaign against, Riddle. Can't let the young ones leave us older guys in the dust, can we?"

"Indeed," Byakuya agreed, turning and walking away. "Until a later time then, Captain Kyouraku." He nodded in acknowledgement to the other Captains and also disappeared from sight. As if his departure were a signal, the rest of the shinigami gathered to watch the advance force dispersed, and soon the shouts and clashes of training filled the massive underground cavern as soldiers, inspired by their youngest Captain, set about their preparations with increased vigor.

Ichigo sprinted through the surprisingly plain corridor that composed the pocket dimension of the prototype Senkai gate, grim determination etched in his eyes. They had been flat out sprinting for several minutes now, and due to their extremely honed physical capabilities, none of the shinigami were even breaking a sweat. After a few more minutes of running, a set of lights came into view at the end of the long hallway.

"This is it!" he shouted to the rest of the troops. "Stay on your guard, we don't know where in England we're going to exit. I want the area to be completely secured! Nothing gets in or out without my or Toushiro's say-so! After that, we'll set up the FOB. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" the troops roared, and the entire advance party burst out of the pocket dimension, zanpakutou drawn, sharp eyes darting around, assessing the forest clearing that they had exited in for any source of trouble.

Harry and Colonel Roy Mustang sighed in unison as Oliver Wood and Second Lieutenant Maria Ross glared at each other, shooting imaginary daggers out of their eyes. Even after two years of cooperation, the wizard and the soldier were still not getting along. Perhaps their animosity toward each other was due to some deep-rooted rivalry between British and American. Perhaps it was because of ideological issues. Or perhaps…

"You wizards are such pussies!" the woman spat, her hand slowly inching towards the sidearm holstered at the hip. "Shooting prissy little colored lights out of fancy sticks. Fight like real soldiers, why don't you? There's nothing wrong with a good gun in your hand!"

"Bloody Yanks and your bloody ignorance," Wood shot back. "You've got no appreciation for a culture that's had hundreds of years of history. More than your piddly little colony country!"

"Appreciation?" Ross shouted. "I've got your appreciation right here!" She violently shoved her middle finger at Wood's face. "And you can take it and shove it up your ass!"

Wood growled, reaching for his wand, and Ross did the same with her handgun. Mustang and Harry decided that enough was enough. "Silence!" the Colonel roared, snapping his fingers once. A spark flew through the air, igniting a dense pocket of oxygen between the quarrelers. The resulting explosion blew both apart, slightly singed, as Harry hit both with a Disarming spell. He caught Wood's wand, and Lieutenant Hawkeye expertly palmed the flying handgun, quickly hitting the magazine release catch and pulling back the slide, ejecting the magazine and the chambered round, rendering the firearm utterly useless except for pounding nails.

"You are adults!" Mustang growled angrily. "Lieutenant Ross! I expect better from you. You are a member of the elite alchemy division of the United States Military. I expect you to act as such. Mister Wood! You should be mature enough to understand the concept of cooperation! You are doing your cause no help by arguing with your allies. Consider yourselves both on probation. You will both serve the night watch for the next week. Together. Perhaps this punishment will allow you to settle your differences. You are both soldiers in the same army, so act like it!"

Finished with his angry tirade, the Colonel turned on his heel, dismissing the shamefaced wizard and soldier. "That is all. I'm sick and tired of these petty arguments. This goes for the rest of the army, as well! We cannot accomplish anything without cooperation and teamwork. Understand this well, or you may very well fall in battle when the time comes. Dismissed!"

When the camp returned to its usual busy hubbub and chatter, undisturbed by quarreling allies, Harry sighed again. Even after two years of their alliance with the Americans, to the point that the two groups had become one, under the joint leadership of the commanders of both factions, little progress had been made against Voldemort. Almost all of Europe was under the power-hungry Dark Lord's control, and he was beginning his advances against Asia. According to the group's latest intelligence, China, Voldemort's first target, was mere weeks from falling, its government deposed and a puppet installed like almost all of Riddle's conquests.

"It's troubling, isn't it?" Harry turned to the blonde seer, who was gazing across the camp, at the hundred or so fighters and support personnel. "Even with a combined British-American alliance, we can make so little headway."

Harry nodded, slightly discouraged. The two were soon joined by Mustang and his staff, Ron, and Hermione. "We need to plan an attack soon," Ron murmured, "or _he_'ll become way too powerful and influential to defeat. I estimate that China has about three weeks and two days before it goes under. We need to strike a blow to Riddle's forces devastating enough to force him to withdraw at least some of his forces from Asia, or China's done for."

"We're still outnumbered in Britain at least two to one," Hermione reminded the redhead grimly. "And if we do anything to attract _his_ attention, we'll just bring down his wrath on our own heads. He's been leaving us alone since we haven't been doing anything. As soon as we start posing a threat towards his control in Britain, he'll crack down on us. Hard."

"Even guerilla tactics won't work," Mustang said, clearly frustrated at the whole situation. "Damn that bastard."

The group was silent for a moment, pondering for situation, until suddenly Luna flinched and swayed sluggishly where she was standing. "Luna?" Hermione asked, worried. "Something wrong? Another vision?"

"Something's coming," Luna rasped, dropping to one knee, clutching at her head. "Something… that's going to change… everything. I see black… so much black… and the gleaming of blades…"

"That doesn't sound good," Harry muttered. "Just great. More potential problems. As if we don't have enough of them as it is." He turned to Luna. "Luna, how soon is this going to happen? Can you get a sense?"

"Soon," she gasped, cradling her head. "Very soon."

Harry and Mustang paled. "Shit," they both said in unison, bolting upright. Urgency ran through their beings like water, and they sprang into action. Harry whipped out his wand, firing red flares into the air. Mustang's staff whipped out their firearms and readied them as the Colonel roared, "All troops to battle stations! Prepare for imminent attack! This is not a drill!"

The camp burst into activity, wizards and witches preparing for battle. The familiar metallic clicks of firearms being locked and loaded filled the clearing as the support personnel took cover in prepared underground shelters, unable to contribute much during actual fighting.

The large clearing was filled with tense, prepared fighters, wands and guns at the ready as they waited for the wards to be breached and Death Eaters to come flooding into the clearing.

Light filled the clearing, partially blinding those unfortunate enough to be facing directly in the direction of the source. Crying out in pain and surprise, those fighters stumbled away from what appeared to be a set of glowing doors, suspended a few feet in midair, slowly sliding open. Wands and weapons were trained on the widening opening, and the wizards and soldiers waited with bated breath for the first person to step through the portal.

"I've never seen something like this before," Harry murmured, his wand hand rock steady. "Is it possible that they aren't Death Eaters?"

"Don't take any chances," Mustang warned. "Any possible allies should have joined up with us long ago."

"Even so," Harry countered, "If possible, don't aim to kill. Try to disable. That means stunners and non-lethal spells only from the wizards. Don't aim for vital organs if possible for your men, Colonel."

Before the Flame Alchemist could respond, the doors opened fully with a creak, and all of a sudden, figures flashed out of the opening. Figures dressed in black, wielding shining blades, dashed out.

The clearing erupted into flashing spells and the chatter of firearms. Harry watched as one of the black-robed figure dropped from a stunning spell. He fired one of his own and was surprised as the red energy was dispelled into sparks by one of the arcing blades, clutched in the hand of a young man with… white hair?

Backing up steadily to try and gain some distance between the rapidly approaching white-haired swordsman, who clearly specialized in melee fighting, Harry was startled by the ice that erupted from the young man's blade, coating his feet and lower calves, rooting him in place. Cursing, Harry frantically cast spells at the oncoming swordsman, forcing the relentless assault to let up slightly. A sudden burst of fire at his feet melted the ice enough for him to yank his feet free, and Harry shot a grateful look to Colonel Mustang before turning his attention back to the battle. The white-haired swordsman was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was faced with another black-robed man with distinctively Asian features.

Roy Mustang snapped his fingers, sending a fireball rocketing through the air towards a group of the attackers. Before it impacted, the fireball prematurely exploded, sending embers floating everywhere. The Colonel frowned. His flame alchemy never backfired. Which meant something had intercepted the fire before it reached its intended target…

He ducked, dropping to his knees as a fireball similar to the one he had just launched whizzed through the air where his head had just been, crashing into a tree and setting it ablaze. The fire was quickly extinguished before it could go out of hand, and Mustang found himself glaring at the form of a young woman with dark hair tied in a bun. She held a long, straight sword with steel prongs jutting from the sides of the blade. Looking at the fire licking at the blade from the guard of the sword, the Colonel found himself intrigued despite the heat of the battle, literally. It was a pity the swordswoman was an enemy, or he could gain some previously unknown information about her abilities.

His eyes traveled up the woman's figure, his sharp mind analyzing every characteristic that caught his attention. The woman's Asian features and the bronze plate tied to her upper arm sent a shiver of shock running through his body. His rudimentary knowledge of Chinese quickly caused him to translate the character etched into the armband. _Five_. "Dammit," he muttered aloud. These weren't enemies. In fact, he had probably been completely wrong earlier. These were friends, from Asia, seeking either help from the British wizards against Riddle, or to fight Riddle himself. "Cease fire!" he roared, frantically trying to stop the fighting before anyone was seriously injured. "They're not enemies! _They're not enemies!_"

Ichigo was the first out of the Senkai gate. To his surprise, the clearing that the pocket dimension exited into was completely filled with people. People pointing weapons straight at the gate. Instinctively ducking as the crackle of gunfire filled the air, he drew his zanpakutou, slashing apart a red ball of energy. "Take them alive if you can!" he shouted, flash-stepping away from the gate to allow for his troops to pour through.

Ichigo suddenly found himself facing a young woman who looked to be the same age as Karin and Yuzu, in her late teens. She even had flaming red hair, a more fiery shade than his softer-spoken sister, but the recognition shocked him into stillness. He was suddenly jerked back to reality as another glowing red streak of energy whizzed past his head. This wasn't the time to be caught off guard.

Dashing forward, he thrust his zanpakutou at the red-haired girl. Ichigo was mildly impressed by her reflexes as she dodged the strike, retaliating with her own, conjuring small birds from the air, which flew towards his face, chirping furiously.

Ichigo slashed with his zanpakutou, reducing the birds into a cloud of feathers and smoke as the summoned avian creatures vanished. _She's a ranged fighter,_ he thought as he dodged another flurry of spells. _And I inherently specialize in melee combat. If I can just get in close, I've got the advantage_. Ichigo charged.

Slashing in an upward diagonal arc, Ichigo managed to get the girl to dodge to the right, into a perfect position for his follow-up strike. Changing his grip on the sword, he swung downward in a mirror copy of his first strike. He saw the girl's eyes widen in surprise and a bit of fear as she managed to duck the gleaming blade with mere millimeters to spare. A few strands of fiery red hair floated to the ground, and Ichigo took his stance again, preparing for another charge.

Toushiro was the second out of the Senkai gate, and like Ichigo before him was surprised to see the amount of people already in the clearing. And like Ichigo, he quickly assessed the possible threats and dashed at a young black-haired man wearing glasses. Slashing at a streak of energy that erupted from the man's wand, he dispelled it into bright sparks. As the young man quickly backed away, trying to gain some distance against him, Toushiro smirked. He wasn't a mere melee fighter, after all.

"Soar above the frozen heavens, Hyourinmaru!" he called, slashing in an upward crescent arc. The release of his zanpakutou sent a flurry of ice from his blade, coating the ground and the bespectacled man's feet and lower legs, rooting him in place. Toushiro's smirk became victorious as he dashed forward, blade poised for a pommel strike to knock him unconscious, when a fireball suddenly exploded at his adversary's feet, melting the ice and allowing the wizard to get to safety. Toushiro cursed, looking around for the source of the fire.

The man in question, dressed in a military uniform, snapped his fingers again, sending a wave of flames rolling across the clearing. "Momo!" Toushiro called, getting the Vice-Captain's attention. "Take this guy!" As the kidou expert released her zanpakutou, intercepting the fire with her own before it could do damage, Toushiro dashed away. A fire user was a bad matchup, and his own abilities would be valuable elsewhere in the battle.

Rukia narrowed her eyes as she faced off against a young woman with bushy brown hair. The witch had demonstrated a vast repertoire of spells, each and every one different as she and the Vice-Captain exchanged spells and kidou. Letting off a blast of white lightning from her palm, Rukia dodged to the side to avoid a blast of purple fire. She didn't know what these spells would do, but getting hit was probably something she wanted to avoid.

Rukia left her sword sheathed at her waist, instead relying on kidou. The wizards were ranged fighters, and Rukia, a kidou expert, preferred to exchange spells rather than try to get in close to attack with her zanpakutou. A quick glance around the battlefield told her that despite being outnumbered about two to one, the rest of the shinigami were faring pretty well. The two sides were fairly evenly matched, and Rukia knew that that would change as soon as the two Captains went into bankai.

Turning her attention back to her opponent, Rukia began channeling energy into her palms. After a quick incantation, she began chaining _Sokatsui_ spells together, firing blast after blast of blue fire at the witch, who countered with her own spells, all the while sidestepping to avoid the blasts of flame.

Toushiro knew something was wrong with the battle with a quick scan told him that none of the enemy wizards or soldiers had any killing intent. Although the spells they used incapacitated the shinigami, the Tenth Division Captain could still feel the fallen troops' reiatsu, which meant they were merely unconscious. Their intel suggested that Riddle's followers were ruthless in battle, rarely taking prisoners unless it was absolutely necessary. That meant that these wizards weren't Death Eaters.

Toushiro slowly became aware of the sharp cracking that signified gunfire, and his suspicions were strengthened. None of the reports said that the Death Eaters used regular human weapons, or even associated with the 'muggles'. Pieces began connecting in the young Captain's brain, and he quickly came to the conclusion that the wizards and soldiers that the shinigami were fighting against weren't followers of Riddle. In fact, they were most likely the complete opposite, fighters resisting Voldemort's rule. These were potential allies, and they were fighting like enemies!

Toushiro took a deep breath. There was only one way to stop this battle. Gathering his reiatsu, he released in a massive pulse that washed over the entire clearing. Exhausted, he dropped to one knee, panting. With the change of powers came severely reduced reiatsu reserves, and even a simple pulse of pure reiatsu manipulation, barring using his zanpakutou, exhausted the young Captain.

The flare of reiatsu could not have come at a more opportune time, coinciding perfectly with Mustang's shout. In an instant, everything froze. Spell-fire and gunfire died away as the wizards and soldiers stopped fighting. The shinigami did the same, feeling the reiatsu pulse that their Captain had released. Swords halted mid-swing, kidou spells died away, and the clearing was quiet.

Ichigo was the first to break the silence, having come to the same conclusion Toushiro had. "You aren't Death Eaters," he said quietly. Everyone heard him.

"Neither are you," Mustang said in return. "It seems that this was all a huge misunderstanding. If you were fighting us, thinking that we were Riddle's followers, it seems that we have a mutual enemy."

"Resistance?" Toushiro inquired, having gotten his breath back, standing again.

Harry nodded. "That's right," he confirmed. "And you?"

The Japanese leaders hesitated in their response. "It's classified," Toushiro finally said stiffly. "I assure you, we meant you no harm. We have a mutual enemy, after all."

Mustang nodded, relaxing. Turning, he called, "Medics! I want a field assessment of everyone who's injured. Tend to the wounded and give me a casualty report!"

Toushiro and Ichigo also relaxed. "Iemura!" Toushiro snapped, and the blonde medic came forward with a salute. "You know what to do."

"Yes, sir!" the Third Seat of the Fourth Division said, gesturing for his medic squad to follow him as he began checking on the fallen shinigami.

Toushiro and Ichigo were soon joined by Rukia and Momo, and they walked across the clearing to where Mustang was standing. "You're the leader here?" Toushiro asked.

"It's a joint leadership," Mustang explained, noticing the looks of realization as the Japanese noticed his difference in accent to the British. "The soldiers in uniform are Americans. We went into hiding when the government fell four years ago, and two years ago we came to Britain and joined with the wizards, who've also been in hiding since the Ministry in Britain fell. I'm Colonel Roy Mustang," he introduced. "This is my aide, Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. My second in command, Major Miles, is helping with cleanup. I'll introduce you to some others later."

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry introduced. "I was the leader of the British resistance until the Americans came and we changed to a joint command. These are Ron Weasley, our chief strategist, Hermione Granger, our head researcher, and Luna Lovegood, our seer."

"A pleasure," Toushiro said, nodding. "I am Captain Hitsugaya Toushiro, Toushiro Hitsugaya in Western naming convention, and I am the co-commander of this troop."

"I'm Captain Kurosaki Ichigo, the other commander," Ichigo introduced himself, extending his hand and shaking with the British and American leaders. "These two are the Vice-Captains and second in command, Vice-Captains Hinamori Momo and Kuchiki Rukia. Reverse their name orders for the Western way to say it, I guess. The four of us and fifty soldiers were sent here to England to set up a forward operating base from which we can launch missions against Riddle."

"So what's your story?" Harry asked once introductions were finished. "None of the Asian countries have shown any resistance to _him_ yet."

"We may be Japanese," Toushiro said with a dark expression, "but we are unaffiliated with the Japanese government."

"It's a long story," Ichigo offered.

"We've got time," Harry said. "The wards haven't fallen. I'm a bit curious as to how you managed to enter the camp while completely bypassing the wards, but that can wait, as long as nobody else can use that ability to travel."

"We're the only ones," Ichigo assured, and Harry nodded.

"Alright, then," he said, flicking his wand and conjuring a number of soft armchairs for the group to sit in. "Let's hear it."

Sitting down, the four shinigami-turned-humans made themselves comfortable. "Well," Toushiro started, "I guess I should start by asking you this: what do you wizards know about death and afterlife?"

A number of different looks came over the Westerners' faces, ranging from pensiveness to sadness to intrigued curiosity. "Dumbledore, our teacher, always referred to it as the 'next great adventure'. He's gone now though, so if he was right, I guess he's experiencing it right now," Harry said. "How does this have to do with you guys, though?"

"Death is where our story begins," Toushiro said. "It may be hard to believe, but the afterlife does exist – or rather, it used to. But I'll explain that later. 'Heaven', I guess you would call it. But it was quite different from what the common opinion is. In fact, it was very much like the real world, but in an Edo Japan style."

"You speak as though you know what it's like," Mustang commented, intrigued.

Toushiro sighed, and Rukia, Hinamori, and Ichigo looked sad as well. "That will be explained later, as well. But you need to know about the background of the afterlife to understand our stories," Toushiro continued. "The Soul Society, as it was called, was arranged in a district system. The four districts of the _Rukongai_, which means 'Place of Wandering Souls', were the places where the majority of souls who passed from this world ended up. The four districts, North, West, East, and South, consisted of eighty districts each. They were arranged in a circle around the _Seireitei_, which means 'Court of Pure Souls'. The districts were numbered, with the lower numbers being closer to the Seireitei, and the higher numbers being further away. The Seireitei was the headquarters of the shinigami. I suppose you Westerners would call shinigami 'Soul Reapers'. Far from the Grim Reapers of legend, the shinigami did not bring death, but rather were escorts for deceased souls, leading them to the Soul Society. We," the young Captain said, "were all shinigami."

"So you're dead?" Hermione asked, her eyes gleaming as she absorbed all this new information.

"Not exactly," Ichigo said, shaking his head. "But that'll be explained later as well." He took up the tale, letting Toushiro rest. "The shinigami were organized into a force, an army if you will, called the _Gotei 13_, or the Thirteen Imperial Court Guard Divisions. Each Division consisted of around two hundred shinigami, led by a Captain, Vice-Captain, and eighteen other seated officers. Like we said when we were introduced, Toushiro and I are Captains, and Rukia and Hinamori are Vice-Captains. Our jobs as shinigami was to guide souls to the afterlife, along with the purification of Hollows."

"Hollows are human souls who died with regret," Rukia began explaining. "When a human dies, their soul is chained to the world with the Chain of Fate, which is attached to their chest. If the soul had regrets when he or she passed, that chain would begin to decay. Once fully decayed, the soul would become a Hollow – a mindless beast without a heart. They were truly hollow creatures, and they had a single-minded determination to devour other souls in an attempt to gain a heart. Our job as shinigami was to purify them by destroying them with our swords, sending them to Soul Society as well."

"You keep speaking in past tense," Mustang noticed. "Why is that?"

"Four years ago," Toushiro said, picking up the story again, "as you know, Riddle began his rampage in Britain. All the souls that he killed died with regrets. There were so many that our shinigami stationed in the world of the living were unable to perform soul burials quickly enough to keep up with the rate that newly deceased souls were appearing. As a result, the Hollow realm, called Hueco Mundo, became overcrowded, and the Hollows flooded into the Soul Society. As soon as the fabric separating the Soul Society and Hueco Mundo was breached, Hollows began entering Soul Society by the thousands. We fought, defending Soul Society with our lives, for a full week. Over two thousand shinigami were killed in action, and finally, with the Hollows threatening the very center of the Seireitei, where the rest of the shinigami and the civilians we had managed to evacuate were gathered, the Captain-Commander, the strongest shinigami, along with several others, sacrificed themselves to buy us time to escape to the world of the living."

"So what happened to the afterlife?" Ron asked. "This Soul Society place?"

"You must realize that as denizens of the afterlife, shinigami were considerably more powerful than humans. We were powered by spiritual energy and were not limited by physical bodies. We Captains and Vice-Captains were the most powerful and most experienced, having sometimes hundreds of years to hone our powers. The Captain-Commander was the leader and the strongest shinigami for over two thousand years," Toushiro explained, and the British and Americans gulped. "As soon as the rest of us were safe, the Captain-Commander expelled all of his _reiatsu_ – spiritual energy – from his body at once. The resulting explosion was enough to completely collapse the Soul Society and Hueco Mundo. As a result, our bodies, which were composed of spiritual particles, became flesh and blood and our powers became grounded in the world of the living. We can still manipulate reiatsu and fight as we once did, but we are now limited by our physical bodies and are far weaker than we were before."

"So you want revenge on Riddle, just like the rest of us," Mustang said, nodding in understanding. "We have all lost much to the power-hungry bastard and his schemes, even if in your case he probably didn't intend it. How many living humans knew of the afterlife?"

"Heh," Ichigo said, scratching his head almost sheepishly. "I guess that's where my story comes in…"

#

Woo, this one's a long one again. Over 8,000 words in this chapter. Things are moving along, and all the characters have converged: HP, Bleach, and FMA. The major action against the Death Eaters comes next chapter, so stay tuned! Leave a review if you would like, and I'll see you next chapter!

~fokker333


	8. Compromised

**Chapter 8: Compromised**

It had been seven months since the shinigami joined forces with the British and Americans, and the war against Voldemort in Britain was beginning to heat up. They had acted first, raiding several of the Death Eater bases. This had caused Riddle to cease operations in Asia and focus his attention on removing the threats to his power in Britain. Previously, the Dark Lord had viewed the resistance group as a mere nuisance, even when the Americans joined. But now, they had gained some now, powerful allies, and Lord Voldemort was determined to root out this infestation of pests before continuing his plans to take over the world. In return, the forward operating base had been reinforced, with Vice-Captains Abarai Renji and Nanao Ise joining the force.

"Team one in position," the microphone on Ichigo's headset crackled.

"Team two in position."

"Team three in position."

"Roger that," the orange haired Captain acknowledged. "Commence operation."

The moon shone brightly down at the heavily warded warehouse that was the location of a major Death Eater hideout. Three teams of resistance fighters were poised to strike in various predetermined hiding places, waiting for the signal. The second Ichigo, the leader of this operation, gave it, Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, clapped his hands together, smacking the ground.

With a crackle of alchemical energy, the ground surrounding the warehouse arched upward, disrupting the defensive wards that the Death Eaters had placed. Although the standard protective wards prevented physical damage to the buildings they protected, by completely changing the shape of the ground they could be completely broken. In this way the resistance had a huge advantage over the Death Eaters, since the dark wizards were incapable of breaking the powerful wards over the resistance camp, while the alchemists in the resistance could easily break the wards with a clap of their hands and a crackle of lightning.

"Team one moving to strike the warehouse," Ichigo whispered as he and his team of shinigami specializing in melee combat approached the main entrance of the warehouse. "Team two, you are authorized to breach."

"Roger that," Seamus Finnegan radioed. The leader of the mid-ranged support team, the Irishman cast a powerful blasting curse at the door, blowing it to splinters along with a large part of the wall around it.

Startled shouts could be heard from inside the warehouse, and the quiet snap of suppressed gunfire rang out in the night. "High-priority target, identified as Thorfinn Rowle, is down," Lieutenant Hawkeye reported. "Team three is ready for long-range support. You're clear to engage, team one."

"Roger that," Ichigo radioed. "Going in." He signaled, and his team of fifteen shinigami rushed into the warehouse, zanpakutou out and ready, gleaming in the clear, moonlit night.

Ichigo silently dispatched a Death Eater with a quick horizontal slice across the throat, turning to look around the interior of the dark warehouse. It was mostly nondescript, with basic living quarters, an area apparently designated to be a library, and a number of sinister-looking devices.

A shuffling sound reached the Captain's ears, and he spun, sword at the ready, to find himself face-to-face with another Death Eater. Dodging the clumsily executed dagger strike, he slashed, lopping off the man's right arm. Screaming in pain and shock, the Death Eater clutched his bleeding stump in horror before another quiet crack rang out. The Death Eater pitched forward face-first, lying still on the floor of the warehouse, the back of his head a bloody mess, blood, bone fragments, and brain fluid leaking from the gunshot wound.

"Good shot," Ichigo quietly radioed to the 'Hawk's Eye', perched in the window of a building overlooking the warehouse over eight hundred meters away. "No prisoners. Kill them all."

Soft crackles of the radio confirmed that the strike team members had heard the command, and Ichigo moved on, his blade flashing again and again as he cut through Death Eaters like a scythe through wheat. Ten minutes later, the operation was finished.

Flicking blood from his sword, Ichigo surveyed the inside of the warehouse in distaste. "Twenty-three confirmed Death Eaters KIA," he reported. "What are our casualties?"

"Nagase took a cutting curse to the arm," Kawamura Tomoe, the second-in-command of team one, reported, "and Kite got knocked unconscious. None of team two or team three were injured."

"Good," Ichigo said in satisfaction. Minimal casualties were optimal in operations like this. Granted, they weren't always possible, but Ichigo always tried to return to base with all of his subordinates alive. "Clean up the evidence and we'll go back to base."

"Captain Kurosaki!" Hawkeye's voice crackled through the radio. "Contact, fifty meters south of the warehouse! Force of approximately fifty Death Eaters incoming!" An explosion rumbled through the street, and the radio fizzled before the Lieutenant's breathless voice came through. "Team three forced to relocate, several injuries sustained in explosion. They're coming, Captain!"

Ichigo cursed. Of all the times for something to go wrong, it had to be under his command. "Roger that, team three. Stay safe." He turned to shout at his troops who were disposing of the bodies. "No time for that! We've got a force of about fifty incoming. Leave the bodies and set up a defensive perimeter. Prepare for imminent breach. I want melee fighters at the front, defending the wizards. Now!" he commanded, and his soldiers jumped to comply. In seconds, the formation was complete and Ichigo couldn't help but be impressed at the training and discipline his subordinates had.

"Ten meters from the door," Hawkeye radioed. "Team three has relocated. Working on taking out high-priority targets now." Silenced gunshots rang out, and three Death Eaters fell before they retaliated at the snipers, forcing them to move again. "They're right outside the warehouse, Captain," the Hawk's Eye reported while dodging spells. "Team three relocating again. Corporal Sherman is down. Repeat, Corporal Sherman is down."

"Dammit," Ichigo swore. But there was no time to worry about the dead sniper. An explosion rocked the warehouse again, and black-cloaked figures began pouring through the entrance. "Team one, engaging," Ichigo radioed, and he and his shinigami sprinted into battle, blades flashing, supported by the wizards, who cast spells with precision.

Swiping his blade across the lead Death Eater's throat with unerring precision, Ichigo flicked the blood from his blade and looked around at the battle. Ice ran through his veins when he saw a number of his own people lying on the ground. Whether they were alive or dead he didn't know, but either way they had sustained casualties. The ice was replaced by anger, and Ichigo made a split-second decision. "Team one, you are authorized to go to level two."

"Yes, sir!" the shinigami chorused, and activated shikai, Ichigo leading the way with the deadly and elegant cleaver that was his own. Although he was limited to basic swordsmanship, since his Getsuga Tenshou would cause far too much damage, going into shikai gave him and the rest of the shinigami a significant advantage. Not only did they gain increased strength, speed, and stamina, there was always the intimidation factor involved. The sight of a giant sword flashing through the air, deflecting spells with ease and removing limbs just as easily, was usually enough to make the average person piss themselves in fear. The Death Eaters were made of sterner stuff, unfortunately, but it still made them hesistate to face him, and Ichigo would take whatever advantage he got.

A few minutes later, it was over. Ichigo stood panting, blood dripping down his face from a gash he had sustained when he was nicked by a cutting curse. "Report!" He barked, sealing his blade and sheathing it on his back again. "Team one! How many casualties?"

Kawamura Tomoe limped up to him, clutching her arm. "Captain," she said, saluting her superior. "Team one sustained six casualties, two KIA. The other four are moderately injured, but the medics are performing first aid and they'll survive."

"Team two, reporting," Seamus said, coughing, his face stained with soot and smoke. "Five injured, none too seriously, and no KIA."

"Team three, reporting," the voice of the Hawk's Eye echoed in the devastated warehouse as she and the three other snipers appeared in the entrance. "One KIA, no other injured."

Ichigo sighed. Three KIA out of his force of thirty-five, with nine injured. It wasn't the worst that could have happened, but it could also have been a hell of a lot better. "And the enemies?" he asked.

"Nineteen Death Eaters KIA," a shinigami reported from where he was kneeling over a body. "Which leaves forty-six unaccounted for."

"Dammit!" Ichigo cursed, slamming his fist into a wall, causing the entire warehouse to shake and creak. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Alright," he continued a few seconds later. "Pack up, we're leaving. The entire place is structurally unsound, and we don't know how quickly those escaped Death Eaters will be able to report to their leader. Burn this place and let's get out of here."

"Roger!" his subordinates replied. Gasoline was poured, splashing liberally over the pile of Death Eater bodies, and as the thirty-two members of the strike force departed, Seamus threw an Incendio into the bowels of the gutted building, sending it up in flames.

"We had a leak," Ichigo reported to Toushiro, Harry, and Mustang half an hour later. "The raid went without a hitch, but then a force of Death Eaters arrived on sight. None of our troops are unaccounted for, but there may be an informant. I'm not suggesting," he said placatingly before any of the other leaders could get angry, "that any one of the troops would betray us. But the fact remains that we lost three men today because they somehow knew when and where we were going to strike. This time we got lucky. They outnumbered us, and if I hadn't authorized shikai, we would probably have sustained a lot more KIA. This can't happen again. We need to find this leak and fix it before we lose a crucial battle."

"The camps warded against all types of external surveillance," Harry said. "There's absolutely no way they could see or hear what we're saying now. But I'll have somebody renew the wards. They might be losing strength."

"I'll have Lieutenant Breda and Warrant Officer Falman conduct a personnel check," Mustang said. "I don't think that there's a traitor, but we have to check anyways. The men won't mind, they know what's necessary."

"If it isn't external surveillance or a rat in our own forces, how could the Death Eaters have known of the attack?" Toushiro asked. "The outpost we attacked was fairly isolated from the rest of Riddle's forces. Reinforcements of that size shouldn't have been anywhere near the area."

Ichigo made a frustrated noise. "Lieutenant Hawkeye said that they even knew where the sniper team would be hiding. If team three had been able to remain on station and provide support, our losses would be less severe. We need to get rid of this information leak _now_."

Kawamura suddenly burst into the command tent, interrupting the meeting. "Captain!" she panted. "We have a situation! Vice-Captain Abarai's gone missing!"

"_Renji_?" Ichigo asked, incredulous. "Has he just gone to take a piss or something?"

"Negative. The wards detected his departure from the camp ten minutes ago. The other men reported that he was walking stiffly, and didn't acknowledge any of them."

"Damn," Ichigo muttered. "I know Renji. He wouldn't betray us. There's something going on here."

"Did the men say anything about his behavior, apart from the stiff walking?" Harry asked Kawamura.

"One of them tried to stop him and ask where he was going," Kawamura reported. "Vice-Captain Abarai didn't acknowledge him, and the man told me that the Vice-Captain's eyes were strangely glassy and unfocused."

"Imperius Curse," Harry said immediately, a grim look on his face. "I recognize the symptoms. Probably on that last mission he went on that went wrong. I think we just found our leak."

"We need to find him immediately," Toushiro said. "If he goes to the Death Eaters, they'll get too much information out of him. Even if he's loyal, under the Imperius Curse he can't resist at all."

"Is there any way to remove the curse?" Mustang inquired. "Apart from resistance from Abarai himself. Can it be removed externally?"

"Not that we know of," Harry said. "I'll have Hermione conduct some research, but our priority is finding him again and neutralizing the threat."

"Bullshit!" Ichigo shouted, slamming his hands down on the table. "Are you suggesting we kill-"

"Calm down," Toushiro ordered. "Harry said 'threat', meaning the information leak. "Although there is a slight possibility of what you mentioned being necessary, we will try our hardest to secure the Vice-Captain without significant injury. We'll put him in stasis until we can figure out a solution."

"Fine," Ichigo growled, standing. "Permission to lead a team to find him."

After a moment of discussion, Mustang faced the agitated young Captain. "Granted," the Colonel said. "Pick out your men and get going, we need to solve this as soon as possible."

Ichigo turned and, without a word, exited the command tent. Toushiro sighed in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose. "As much as I dislike this whole situation," the white haired Captain muttered, "I agree with Ichigo. When you have lived as long as we shinigami have, the bonds you form with your comrades is especially strong. Ichigo, despite being our youngest members due to his unique situation, has taken the meaning of the word 'bond' to the extreme. We shinigami dealt with loss every day, but it doesn't mean that we aren't affected by the loss of someone close to us. It's a feeling that we're all too acquainted with, unfortunately."

"So you've lost someone close to you?" Harry asked softly, thinking of his parents, Dumbledore, and Sirius.

Toushiro stiffened momentarily, then relaxed again. It had been more than four years since it had happened, after all. Although the loss still hurt, he had had plenty of time to deal with it. Right?

"Yeah," the young Captain muttered. "My Vice-Captain. I never knew my parents, due to the random nature of being sent to the Soul Society. Hinamori and her grandmother adopted me when they found me a few days after I arrived. She was the one who found me in the Rukongai, slowly killing granny with the strength of my spiritual pressure, and convinced me to join the academy and become a shinigami. I was what the academy called a prodigy, graduating out of a six-year curriculum in less than two. I quickly became Captain of the Tenth Division and she served as my subordinate for over fifty years. She fell during the invasion of Soul Society, defending the Rukongai. Her name was Matsumoto Rangiku."

"What was she like?"

Toushiro sighed heavily, remembering his most faithful subordinate. "She was the most irritating Vice-Captain anyone could ask for. She almost never did the paperwork she was assigned to. Constantly drinking in the office and passing out on my couch, skipping out to go drinking with some of the other Vice-Captains. As a subordinate, she was the worst you could get. But as a friend…" Toushiro trailed off, the ache in his chest that had started when he started talking intensifying to the point that he couldn't speak. He hadn't talked about Matsumoto since the day he, Hinamori, and Rina had drunk a toast to the Vice-Captain, and apparently the raw pain of lass was still present.

"I'm sorry," Mustang murmured, and the others present added their own condolences. "We all know what loss feels like. We understand how you feel."

Toushiro could only nod stiffly, his throat closed tightly, unable to let out a single word. Standing up, he exited the command tent.

"Don't go after him," Mustang warned as Harry made to follow Toushiro. "He'll need to talk about it sometime, but he needs to blow off steam more than anything right now. You can talk with him later. You know just as well as the rest of us how he's feeling right now, even if it happened a few years ago. You're feeling it too, aren't you?"

Harry nodded resignedly, his shoulders sagging. Mustang was right. The pain of Sirius's death still weighed heavily on his heart. "Yeah," he muttered, sitting back down with a thump on his chair.

Ichigo sprinted through the woods, a squad of ten shinigami desperately struggling to keep up with the backbreaking pace he set. A fire burned in his eyes, one of determination and desperation. Too many had already died at the hands of Voldemort, and hell if he was going to let the bastard take the life of one of his best friends!

A soft whoosh and flare of reiatsu alerted Ichigo of a new presence, and the orange-haired Captain turned his head to see Toushiro easily keeping pace, a determined look on his face. "I dismissed the squad you put together," the shorter shinigami said. "That way, we can go even faster without them dragging us down."

"Thanks," Ichigo acknowledged gruffly, and the two Captains exploded forward, tearing through the trees and bushes at a mad pace. Before too long, they were able to catch the missing Vice-Captain's trail.

"Renji!" Ichigo roared, catching sight of the spikey red hair of the Fifth Division Vice-Captain. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Wait," Toushiro cautioned, holding out a hand when Ichigo made to start forward when Renji didn't respond. "Look at his movements."

Sure enough, each step was jerky and forced, and Renji's body was trembling, as if from the effort to resist the Imperius Curse. It took a moment for Ichigo to realize that he too was trembling from the tension of watching his friend struggle against the controlling influence of the Unforgivable Curse.

"Come on," Ichigo muttered, and Toushiro found himself mentally repeating the words, even as a shaking Renji took a step away from the two Captains. "You can do it, you pineapple bastard."

Caught in the tension of the moment, neither Ichigo nor Toushiro saw what was coming next. With the same jerkiness that he had been moving with, Renji suddenly spun around to face them, his eyes empty and unfocused. Pulling his sword from its sheath on his waist, he lunged at the two Captains. Although his swordsmanship was stiff and uncoordinated, the strength and speed of the strike was just as strong as they were when the Vice-Captain was in command of his body.

Ichigo cursed, dodging the clumsy swipe. "Renji!" he yelled, backpedaling away from the red-haired shinigami. "Stop! Snap out of it!"

The words had no effect, and the attacks continued. Neither Captain drew their own blades, reluctant to do so, as it would have meant fighting a loyal subordinate whose actions were not his own.

With a flash, Renji's blade shifted into shikai, the serrated whip-like falchion blade slashing through the air, cutting through trees and branches, crashing into the ground, with Ichigo and Toushiro leaping into the air, barely avoiding the strikes.

"Finite Incantatem!" a new voice roared as Harry, Ron, Hermione, Mustang, Edward, and Hawkeye crashed into the newly created clearing. Everyone watched breathlessly as Renji jerked, coming to a halt. His shoulders slumped, the sword falling from his limp fingers, burying itself into the soft forest dirt with a muffled thump. Swaying slightly, Renji's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell unconscious to the ground.

"Thank goodness we made it on time," Hermione panted in relief, sweat dripping from her brow. "The advance team came back and told us where you were, and we came looking."

"That doesn't matter now," Ichigo said impatiently. "Is he alright?" He had dashed to his friend's side as soon as the Imperiused Vice-Captain had crumpled and was now performing a quick diagnosis. "He's breathing and his pulse is slightly elevated, but steady," the orange-haired Captain reported, relaxing slightly. "But what sort of magical damage could the curse do to his mind?"

"We don't know," Hermione said, biting her lip. "It varies from person to person. If the victim resisted a lot for a long time, there may be brain damage from the exertion. How long was he under?"

"That's the problem," Toushiro said with a small frown. "We don't know exactly when this happened."

In all the commotion over the unconscious body of the incapacitated shinigami, nobody noticed the small flame-like rune that was engraved on the blade of the zanpakutou, now resealed and stuck in the ground. A spark ran along the edge of the blade, tracing the rune with energy. With a low roar, black flames burst from the rune, quickly engulfing the zanpakutou and the ground it was in, spreading in the blink of an eye to the surrounding trees.

Ichigo yelled out in shock as flames splattered onto his coat. Ripping it off before it did any serious damage to his skin, he flung it away from him. "What's going on?" he shouted over the roar of flames.

"There was a fire rune carved into his sword!" Harry yelled back as water poured from the tip of his wand in an attempt to suppress the flames that had consumed the clearing. "The Death Eaters probably put it there to make sure that if Abarai was compromised, he couldn't give up any information! Strong-willed Imperius victims can sometimes retain the memories of what they did while under its influence. They probably didn't want to leave any loose ends!"

The rest of the wizards had joined him in pouring water on the blaze. Edward clapped his hands, slapping them on the ground, transmuting the earth into sand, trying to smother the flames. "It's not working!" the young alchemist called as the sand itself caught fire.

"The fire's cursed!" Hermione shouted. "It's not Fiendfyre, but it's almost just as bad! I don't think it can be put out with conventional means!" The black flames licked higher and higher, and soon everyone was frantically dodging the flickering tongues of fire.

"Ichigo!" Toushiro yelled as fire ate though a huge English oak, the ancient tree crashing into the ground with a tremendous crack. "I'm going to use my shikai to try and suppress the flames!"

"Do it!" Ichigo shouted back, helpless to do anything.

In an instant, Toushiro reached over his back and bared his zanpakutou in a swift motion. "Sit upon the frozen heavens, Hyourinmaru!" Ice burst from his blade, sweeping through the entire clearing, washing over the black flames.

The two forces of nature battled against each other, the flames striving to overcome the cold ice that threatened their existence, but eventually the ice won out. The group stood, sweating dripping from their bodies, in a winter landscape, white-blue ice contrasting starkly with the charred black stumps of the trees that had been consumed by the blaze.

Ichigo winced as he passed a hand gingerly over the angry red burns that now covered his back. "Nice job, Toushiro," he said to the white-haired Captain, who simply nodded and sheathed his sword back on his back. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he pulled on the remains of his tattered black shirt, ignoring the chafing as cloth rubbed against raw skin. "Is Renji okay?"

"He's fine," Hawkeye reported from beside the unconscious Vice-Captain's body. "A bit bruised and battered, and he's got burns over much of his upper body, but they aren't bad. I estimate most of them are second-degree."

"He might not be physically hurt too bad," Harry cautioned, "but we don't know what damage his mind could have suffered. Before we do anything, let's bring him back to base and reinforce the wards. They might have been weakened when he left."

They gathered up the unconscious Vice-Captain's body, laying his now-sealed and rune-less zanpakutou across Renji's chest. Together, they walked back towards their base camp, each with their own thoughts running through their heads.

* * *

So a really short chapter this time. My chapter lengths are so inconsistent haha. Hope you enjoy!

~fokker333


	9. The Beginning of the End (I)

**Chapter 8: The Beginning of the End (I)**

"Sir!" a black-robed shinigami called out, kneeling out of respect for the leaders in the command tent. "The Death Eaters are on the move! Our scouts have observed large-scaled activity in most of the Death Eater bases across England. They seem to have been reinforced as well; there are reports that Riddle's followers are for the most part leaving the occupied European countries to bolster their forces here in England. They've assembled a large force, numbering about two hundred, and are making their way here from London."

"They're gearing up for war then," Toushiro said, lacing his fingers together in front of his face. "What is the situation of our own forces?"

"Full standby, Captain," the shinigami reported. "Our troops here in the FOB will be ready for battle in a matter of minutes, and the troops back in Japan can arrive in a battlefield in England in just as little time, if they double-time through the pocket dimension.

"Excellent," Toushiro nodded. "Then all preparations are finished. Now it is just a matter of picking the place and time for this battle, and to see who makes the first move." The white-haired Captain dismissed the shinigami and turned to the others. "What places between the Death Eaters' positions and our own would be suitable for a pitched battle? It seems that this fight is unavoidable and I would prefer that we choose the battlefield."

The British commanders shared a thoughtful look. "A few locations come to mind," Ron, his tactical mind thinking furiously, murmured. "How confident are you in your troops' defensive abilities, Captain Hitsugaya, Captain Kurosaki? Since your men would bear the brunt of the attack as the melee fighters, with the rest of us providing support…"

"You're thinking of an open area," Ichigo said. "A wide open area where we shinigami can fight and the enemy would make easy targets for your ranged attacks."

"Right," Hermione replied with a nod. "There's an area near here that's like that. In fact, it's not so much a plain as a giant crater. Nobody really knows where it came from. There was no meteor or anything, and no human device, short of a nuclear weapon, could have blown a hole that big. We measured it when we came across it a few years ago. Its diameter is almost a mile wide!"

Ichigo and Toushiro shared a look. "You say that this crater only recently appeared. About when was this?"

"Four years ago, give or take," Harry said. "It was a few weeks after Riddle took over."

"The time frame matches," Toushiro murmured, looking at Ichigo. "You think it could have been…?"

"You know something about this crater?" Mustang questioned.

"We won't know for certain until we get there," Toushiro said, "but we suspect that the crater was caused by one of our Captains before the Soul Society fell. She had been sent on a mission to assassinate Riddle to try and stem the creation of Hollows, but she and her squad were overwhelm before she was able to do so. Before she fell, the Captain activated the final level of her power in an attempt to destroy as many Hollows as she could, in order to ease the brunt of the invasion on Soul Society."

"Merlin," Harry whispered. "You mean she made that crater on her _own?_" His eyes were wide, awed by the raw power that this Captain had to change the landscape so drastically.

"Jahukou Raikoben was known to be the zanpakutou with the most raw, destructive power, second only to that of our Captain-Commander," Toushiro said. "The battle in which the Captain fell was only the second time Captain Soi Fon of the Second Division and Commander of the Onmitsukidou used her bankai in battle."

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured. "And the men sent on that mission…?"

"None returned to Soul Society," Toushiro replied stiffly. "It was a failed attempt to eliminate the world of Riddle, a failure that we will correct. To answer your original question, Mister Weasley, against the scum that call themselves Death Eaters, our troops will more than hold their own."

"Excellent," Ron said, spreading out a map of the area on the table and conjuring up small figures to represent the factions involved in the battle. "Here's the situation then."

A cluster of black-clad figurines settled onto the map, a few miles from the designated area. "The Death Eaters are still a few miles out, according to our intel. We're closer position-wise. I estimate that we'll have about four hours to set up in and around the area."

More figurines appeared on the map, standing on the forest in which their base was located. "The terrain of the area will work greatly to our favor," the strategist said. "The inside of the crater itself is flat and wide-open, a good environment for your troops to fight in, Captain Hitsugaya. The walls of the crater aren't completely smooth either. There's a lot of cover around the edges and along the sides of the crater, which will make good sniper positions for your men, Colonel," he said, nodding to the blue-clad American alchemist. "Which leaves the rest us," he said, motioning to Harry and Hermione as representatives of the British wizards and witches. "We don't have nearly as long a range as the Colonel's troops, nor can we fight in close combat like Captain Hitsugaya's men. So that leaves us as close support. We'll conjure shields, blind them, anything to distract the Death Eaters while they get picked off by snipers or taken out by the Japanese."

"It's a good plan," Toushiro observed, nodding at the placements of the figures that symbolized their forces. "Do we know how much intel the enemy have on our forces?"

"They know pretty much exactly which wizards and witches are in our force, and our abilities," Harry replied. "We're pretty much the same crowd that they fought against at the beginning of the war. I don't think they know about the American alchemists. European wizarding society knows pretty much nothing about alchemy, not even Dumbledore. As for the rest of the American troops, Riddle will probably underestimate them, since they don't use magic to fight. With their pureblood obsession, he thinks that anything non-magical is lower than them," he muttered darkly.

"We'll show him not to underestimate us then," Hawkeye said softly, tapping the sniper rifle slung over her shoulder, quiet confidence in her hazel eyes.

Harry smiled thinly and continued, "I think that Riddle knows about the shinigami though," he said. Toushiro and Ichigo looked at the bespectacled British commander questioningly. Obligingly, Harry elaborated. "At the Battle of Hogwarts, Riddle said something about the afterlife. I don't remember his exact words though."

"I do," Hermione said, and Ron and Harry rolled their eyes amusedly.

"Of course you do," they said simultaneously, and the brilliant witch huffed.

"Riddle's exact words were, and I quote, _'Death had merely been the next great adventure. But now… your deaths will simply be the end of you. Dumbledore knew of the afterlife, yes. In my own findings, I discovered that it indeed existed. But not anymore. With this world devastated, it shall collapse upon itself.'_"

Ichigo drew in a sharp breath, and Toushiro stiffened visibly, his hands clenching into fists. "He knew," the white-haired Captain hissed through clenched teeth. "He fucking _knew_." It was the most agitated anyone present had seen the usually calm and collected Captain, beside Ichigo, and he was too affected by what Hermione had said to do anything about it.

"Knew what?" Hermione asked tentatively, not wanting to irritate Toushiro more. They had seen a fraction of Toushiro's powers when Renji had been placed under the Imperius Curse, and they had no desire to experience it used on them.

Toushiro couldn't even speak, his teeth grinding together as he struggled to control himself. Ichigo looked at his fellow Captain in concern. He could count the number of times he had seen Toushiro so agitated on one hand, and these incidents were usually followed by some people suffering severe frostbite.

A cold wind blew through the command tent, and everyone but Ichigo and Toushiro shivered. Outside, soft snow began falling from the sky as the temperature dropped below freezing unexpectedly, despite it only being September.

The wind picked up, blowing tent flaps and papers awry, and the snow began accumulating on the ground, forming a blinding white layer.

Ichigo, used to the pressure and effects of Toushiro's spiritual power, let the other Captain vent for a moment before deciding it was enough. "Toushiro," he said sharply, accompanied by a sharp smack across the back of the white-haired shinigami's head. "That's enough."

In an instant, the wind died down, the snow melting and leaving the grass beneath green again. The temperature rose again, becoming the seasonal coolness of autumn rather than the biting cold of winter. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at the angry young Captain, and Mustang and Hawkeye only drew their heavy blue jackets around their bodies.

"You done?" Ichigo asked.

"Yeah," Toushiro muttered, not looking at anyone in the eyes. "Sorry about that."

"To answer your question," Ichigo said, turning to the others, "If what you said Riddle said is true, then it means that that bastard knew about the Soul Society. He called it the afterlife, so chances are that he didn't know the specifics, but that doesn't change the fact of the matter. That rotten scumbag wanted to destroy the 'afterlife'. He caused the invasion of the Soul Society _intentionally_."

"This changes things," Toushiro said, and heads turned to look at the Tenth Division Captain. "Before, we thought that the destruction of the Soul Society was merely a side-effect of Riddle's genocide in the world of the living. But now we know differently. He did it intentionally. He caused the destruction of millions of souls on purpose."

"But why?" Mustang asked, his hands too clenching as he thought of the implications of what Toushiro had just said. "Why would he go to such lengths?"

"Immortality," Harry, Ron, and Hermione said simultaneously. "That's why his followers are called Death Eaters," Harry added. "Because they fear death, and so they try to conquer it."

Dark looks appeared on Ichigo and Toushiro's face. "Unforgivable," Toushiro said sharply. "Nobody can escape death. He's no exception. We'll make sure of that."

Ichigo nodded. "Let's go," he said to nobody in particular. "We've wasted enough time talking here. We have an ambush to set up, a battle to fight, and a dark lord to send to the depths of Hell."

"Right," the others nodded, standing from the table that they were seated at. Turning, each commander strode out of the tent to their respective commands and began issuing orders. In a matter of minutes, the camp was a bustle of activity.

_"What's the situation, Captain Hitsugaya, Captain Kurosaki?"_ the long-range radio crackled, the calm and collected voice of Kuchiki Byakuya emanating from the speakers.

"Battle commences in approximately three hours," Toushiro said into the microphone. "We've decided on a battlefield. Grid coordinates for the Senkai gate are L1643-D4285."

_"Received and acknowledged,"_ Byakuya said. _"Are reinforcements required?"_

"Negative for now," Toushiro said. "We are fairly evenly matched with the enemy forces. If necessary we will request for backup. Maintain communications connections throughout the battle. I make regular updates of the course of the battle."

_ "Confirmed," _Byakuya said. _"Is that all?"_

"Not quite. We have received new intel that suggests that Riddle knew of the Soul Society and intended for its destruction."

Silence. It stretched on until…

_"Acknowledged. Bankai is authorized. HQ out."_

The radio went silent, and Toushiro looked at Ichigo. "It's been a while since I went all-out," the orange-haired Captain grinned. "It'll be a good release of pent-up energy, eh?"

"Yes," Toushiro nodded. "It will."

#

"Report," Toushiro said into the microphone of his radio, his hand wrapped around the hit of his blade sheathed on his back.

_"Overwatch 1 in position,"_ Hawkeye's voice cracked.

_"Overwatch 2 in position."_

_ "Overwatch 3 in position."_

_ "Mustang Squad in position."_

_ "Elric Squad in position."_

_ "Armstrong Squad in position."_

_"Miles Squad in position."_

_ "Union Jack in position," _Harry said.

_ "Reaper 1 in position,"_ came the voice of Ichigo.

_ "Reaper 2 in position." _Kuchiki Rukia.

_"Reaper 3 in position." _Hinamori Momo.

_ "Reaper 4 in position." _Kawamura Tomoe.

"Roger that," Toushiro radioed back as the sound off finished. "Reaper Command acknowledges all. Overwatch 1, what's the status of the enemy, over?"

_"Reaper Command, Overwatch 1. I have visual confirmation of plus three hundred enemies. Range seven hundred meters due southwest and closing. Entering optimal sniper range in three minutes, over."_

"Reaper Command copies. All Overwatch teams, wait for my mark to fire, over."

_"Overwatch 1 copies, over."_

_ "Overwatch 2 copies, over."_

_ "Overwatch 3 copies, over."_

_ "Reaper Command, Overwatch 1. Enemy is thirty seconds out, over."_

"Roger. Hold your fire," Toushiro ordered. Silently, the white-haired Captain counted off thirty seconds in his head.

_"Enemy is now within optimal sniper range. Orders, over?"_

"Hold," Toushiro said. _Wait for it…_ Another twenty seconds ticked past. "All Overwatch teams, this is Reaper Actual. You are authorized to engage enemy, over."

_"Overwatch 1 confirms. Engaging." _The radio crackled, and shots ripped through the evening air. Soon, the sound of gunfire rattled a steady beat as the snipers of the Overwatch teams went about their deadly business.

_"Reaper Command, Overwatch 1," _Hawkeye said again, another shot ringing out. _"Enemy has broken rank and is rushing towards the crater. Distance approximately two hundred meters, over. I count thirteen confirmed kills."_

"Acknowledged," Toushiro radioed. "Good job, Overwatch 1. All teams prepare for battle, over. Engage on my mark, over." Crackles of confirmation from every waiting team came over the radio, and Toushiro drew his blade, the cold steel glinting menacingly in the light of the setting sun. Soon, the first black-clad figures of the enemy crested the edge of the crater that the allied forces were situated in.

"Reaper Command to all units: enemy has entered the crater. Repeat, enemy has entered the crater. Hold your positions until Reaper Command initiates engagement, over."

The wave of Death Eaters flooded into the crater, fanning out as several more fell to sniper fire. Toushiro counted them with a sharp eye, and as soon as the count reached a little over two hundred, he moved.

With a blindingly fast flash step, the young Captain was in front of the enemy forces, sword in hand. In an instant the blade was coated in blood and the leading Death Eater was on the ground, writhing and gurgling as crimson flowed from a neat slice on the side of his neck.

"Reaper Command to all units," Toushiro said, seeing his fellow Captain leap into the fray, Ichigo's katana flashing its deadly dance through the black-clad Death Eaters. "Permission to engage enemy forces granted. Reaper Command out."

Apart from the sounds of gunfire, incantations, and the whistle of steel through air, the battle was silent. Neither side spoke as they clashed in a deadly struggle of flying lead, steel, and energy.

Ichigo slashed his way through a pair of Death Eaters, his blade dancing its way methodically through wands, cloth, flesh, and bone. The two Death Eaters dropped like rocks, their wand hands dropping to the ground beside their rolling heads as their decapitated bodies collapsed in a heap. Straightening from the crouch that he had ended his attack in, he whipped his katana through the air, slashing a flying bolt of energy and causing it to burst into sparks. Turning to face the new threat, the orange-haired Captain prepared his blade, the cold, bloodstained steel glinting in the light.

Backpedaling furiously, the Death Eater threw spell after spell at Ichigo, who easily dodged or blocked them with his zanpakutou. As Ichigo approached the retreating Death Eater, a shot rang out, and the black-cloaked wizards screamed in agony, clutching the stump of his now-nonexistent wand arm, which had been blown apart at the elbow. Ichigo ended the man's suffering with a quick and clean slash to the chest, turning so that the arcing, spurting blood didn't splatter on his face.

Nodding in thanks to the Overwatch team whom he couldn't see, Ichigo turned back to battle, only to find himself surrounded by almost a dozen Death Eaters. He raised an eyebrow, his muscles tensing. It seemed like they were wising up and focusing their attention on the powerful shinigami Captains.

A sudden chill filled the air, and Ichigo chanced a quick glance to where Toushiro was fighting. A cluster of human-sized ice sculptures confirmed that the white-haired Captain had indeed released his shikai. Ichigo smiled at the Death Eaters, and several flinched at the sight of the Captain's bared teeth. "Let's dance," he growled, pulsing his reiatsu into his zanpakutou.

The Death Eaters stared in awe and horror as Ichigo's slim katana glowed, morphing into a giant cleaver-like blade. The black-wrapped handle was capped with a bronze ball, and the broad blade curved inward near the top and the handle, giving the sword a combat knife-like appearance, albeit one that was almost as long as Ichigo was tall.

The Death Eaters began casting spells at the Captain furiously, but they were all dodged or deflected. The blade began to glow as Ichigo channeled his reiatsu into the zanpakutou. With a shout, he slashed, sending a crescent of glowing energy towards the circle of Death Eaters. "Getsuga Tenshou!"

The top halves of two Death Eaters vanished in a spray of red mist, and the two adjacent Death Eaters lost their arms. Spells began flying even heavier through the air, and Ichigo began flash-stepping around the battlefield. Despite the fact that the speed of his movements was nowhere near the level he had been capable of while the Soul Society had still existed, it was still considerably faster than anything a normal human could achieve. To some of the slower-witted Death Eaters, their comrades seemed to simply fall to pieces before their very eyes, before their own existences were ended by a vengeful god of death.

A roar filled Toushiro's ears, and heat washed over his body as the white-haired Captain quickly flash-stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding a burst of fire. Narrowing his eyes at the source of the flames, which had singed the hems of his captain's cloak, and smiled grimly. Time to take things up a notch.

"Bankai!" Icy reiatsu exploded over the battlefield. In an instant, stormy gray clouds had covered the crater, and a light sprinkling of snow began falling over the carnage. "Daiguren Hyourinmaru!"

Death Eaters, wizards, and soldiers alike paused momentarily, stunned at the sudden change in weather. Not so for the shinigami, who simply took advantage of the sudden lull in fighting to cut down a few more Death Eaters.

Ichigo smirked as the cold reiatsu washed over his body. Toushiro was always so quick to jump right into battle. Then again, who wouldn't, after the revelation that the Voldemort had caused the destruction of Soul Society intentionally?

Cries and screams of horror and shock filled the air as a winged figure swept through the battle, Death Eaters falling like wheat beneath the scythe. A dozen of the black-cloaked dark wizards banded together, throwing spell after spell after this new threat.

Toushiro merely folded his icy wings together, blocking each and every spell with relative ease, although the force of so many spells impacting the wings sent shards of ice ricocheting through the air. With a reiatsu-infused burst of strength, he hurled himself into the air. Hovering over the battlefield like an avenging angel, he narrowed his eyes, honing into the spots where the dark-clothed wizards were most numerous.

Focusing his reiatsu into his blade, he swung. "Hyouryu Senbi!" A massive wave of ice flowed forth, engulfing entire areas of the battlefield, encasing dozens of Death Eaters in its deadly embrace.

Unfortunately, due to the presence of allies, Toushiro couldn't use this ability too often. Instead, he used his enhanced abilities to again tear through the battlefield, cutting apart Death Eaters with ease. With each slice and stab, the unfortunate target was turned into a human popsicle, ice emerging from the fatal wound to cover the Death Eater and the ground he was standing on.

After the initial shock, chaos broke out again on the battlefield. Spells were once again exchanged, gunfire rang out, and cries and shouts of pain again filled the air. It quickly became evident that both sides had been holding back initially.

Multiple Death Eaters, in order to counter the icy attacks of Toushiro's bankai, began using Fiendfyre, the cursed flames engulfing everything they touched.

Alchemic energy crackled as the three state alchemists plied their art, massive pillars of stone and earth rising from the ground to smother the fires, more stone projectiles hurtling through the air at offending Death Eaters, and waves of fire – not cursed – bathed the battle in an eerie light.

Despite Toushiro's bankai and the full power of the alchemists, the sheer numbers of the Death Eaters, although considerably thinned, began winning over. More than once members of the allied forces found themselves cut off from their comrades and cut down by multiple Death Eaters. The balance of the battle was beginning to tip in the Death Eater's favor.

Until…

Ichigo decided that he had had enough of this battle. Although it was bound to be decisive, it would not due for the allied forces to lose too much of its strength. Although there were still shinigami in Japan, he also knew that Voldemort had hundreds of other Death Eaters stationed in other countries. It was time to end this particular battle.

"Bankai!"

#

Righty-ho! This chapter is the end of what I have already written, which means that you're going to have to wait longer than a week for the next one. School's busy, as usual, and I'm taking standardized tests (SATs and ACTs) soon, so I won't have too much time to write. I'll try to have at least a new chapter every month, but no promises…

You probably noticed that this chapter is entitled **The Beginning of the End (I)**_**. **_The (I) at the end means that I will be writing the battle from several different perspectives, and this is only one of at least three that I have planned. It also means that this story is, plot-wise, coming to an end. Yes, this is going to be much shorter than **The Reaper**. After this major battle, a few major plot elements are going to happen, and then a big final battle, and then an aftermath, and that's pretty much it. Also, I may or may not have something new that I'll post soon… we'll see.

Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Fokker333 over and out!

~fokker333


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